joining the mile high club without ever leaving the ground (haha, weed, get it?)

biting my nails waiting for a text,

a message that i know i'll never get.

asked you to talk three days ago.

the read receipt puts a burn hole in me.

all i wanna do is hang out with you

and listen to Algernon and pictures of june,

but you would rather fuck with guys

who are taller than me, so i guess i'll go to sleep.

just let me know if you want to let me go.

this treatment though, makes me hate you to the bone.

i wanna go, kinda over this whole party.

do you wanna go?

three whole months and no missed calls.

starting to wonder if you cared at all.

sleepless nights in dirty sheets,

wondering if you even miss me,

cuz i miss you.

i wish i could tell you

how much i miss the days

when i would get high with my friends and

text you every minute.

but you've been gone, and things have changed.

i don't think that this works for me

or for you frankly.

(fuckin'... what the fuckin'... fuck.

who the fuck fucked this fucking...

how did you two fucking fucks... fuck!)

just let me know if you want to let me go.

this treatment though, makes me hate you to the bone.

i wanna go, i'm kinda over this whole party.

do you wanna go?