Were you high
When you told her you were leaving?
She didn’t cry
She might had she been surprised
She clicked the locks behind ya
What do you do
When two wrongs make a baby?
Do you run
’Til you feel like you’re someone else?
You let the sun and the tequila warm ya
In the backseat of a limo
From LAX to the Santa Monica Pier
Refracted lights adorn ya
Like the Manson family on your own front lawn
Six months gone
The devil’s in the details
Caution tape and hangers-on
All the scheming and scene-ing and scroungin’ and drownin’
Fentanyl and a six-pack of amnesia
Like a Soviet submarine
You whisper dasvidaniya