I think someone up there’s trying to talk to me

Every cul de sac looks the same in this part of town

But mine is different somehow, it has to be

And the birds fly low and one died in my yard on a day in September last year

Ducks swim past me a little too obviously trying to pawn off some bread

Clouds have a steady trail through the sky and I wonder if love is actually worth it or something we all justify to feel too good and too bad about ourselves because we can’t all do hard drugs

Two years ago I would store blue belles in my overall pocket and lie that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with someone like it was a good salaried job that I hated

Two boys fight over cat tails and my heart breaks for a home I never really fit into and ones that I did but growing pains pushed me out of everything that used to fit and I just can’t find one that both has a canola field and an ocean

And I wonder if anyone else sees it and gets it like me and they probably all do

But I’ve got to be different somehow