Текст: Grown Ups. Johnny Edwards.

I take one look,
One drink.
You read big books on love and death.
I say,
I can,
Relate.
But I can't,
Come close.
Wondering, waiting, worrying myself old.
I can melt into this couch and bottle myself in.
In turn you'll walk away,
But I'll stay.
Out of the woods, I'm walking.
This party is done, and I'm tired of talking.
I'm barely awake, and the country is calling.
August had it's say and went,
If left feeling indifferent,
You wouldn't even know.
I'm at your front porch.
I'm at your front door.
It's begging me through.

Why do I miss the name and likeness of my oldest fears?