I’m playing parts with you.
Keeping friends while you’re away.
I’m holding a space for you.
Folding the page until you’re back one day.
And I can’t find anything.
My daily rhythm is a total wreck.
I’m back at my station and things keep on spinning.
I’m trading shifts with you.
Punching the clock, keeping costs at bay.
And I can’t find anything.
My daily rhythm is a total wreck.
I’m back at my station and things keep on spinning.
Ruining things that mean a lot and making the water much too hot,
testing your patience and testing the weight,
stitching in lines, keeping you up so late.
I can’t find anything.