I’ll stare at the Sun
till I can finally see the stars
The city lights don’t do them justice
And I just miss your backyard
All the nights we used to talk and drive around
Mapping out our sacred hometown

Where the kids armed themselves with
Tommy guns and sticks
Clean needles, rolled up bills
And enough to do the trick
We fought back all by ourselves
Tearing through a post-high school shaped hell

I’ll warm up the car
While you exit the house cafe
Stop to light a cigarette
Before we made our grand escape
You claim these winters are getting so much colder
We laugh, relaying fears of getting older

My old car stereo kicks on
Playing songs we hand selected
A mixtape for o. I'm mischief
From our own personal collections
Watch subdivisions slowly turn to fields
Feel a little better about being stuck here