In My Car

Such a relatable feeling that I feel isolatedly

Trade the box for the matches and the birds for the bees

When unproductive is sad and sadness is unproductive

What else could you expect from the nothing above us

Don't need to see to know it's real

And the proof was how you feel

Don't think about it or it might go away

Have to let go to have it stay

You kept a small spot of things that were mine

I said if you throw them out, well, then that would be fine