Petite

I don't know why I wrote this

Sweet summer holiday in your ages
But winter lingers stagnant on your breath
Put it in your bags
Your heavy, ancient bags
Throw them into all the lakes
Pray to all the monuments
Tell your God
You're forgetting him
You've reinvented
But physically, you're not different
A few cuts, a few freckles, a few burns
But who's opinion does that change?
Everyone still knows, you're the one with the blues to shake
You still draw the same girl
Over and over again
Running on another cities time
Running on someone else's minutes
Your time is running out
But you never seem to be able to bring your eyes to the clock anymore
You remember all the things you were meant to forget
But can't remember what you actually need
Don't let me dance no more
The bars are all closed
And every last drop has been drunk
So I guess the only place left to go
Is the arms of the one you thought you lost
Come home to me.