Strangers

Pick flowers for my friends
Give them to strangers on the street
A big empty front yard
Feeling alone when I shouldn't be
Getting used to something I enjoy
So I resort to taking pictures
I wish things were different
But I'm shallow at heart
It's all concrete floors and traffic lights
I swear to god I have to leave the city
Before it kills me
A farmhouse with an empty barn
An open window and being alone
That's what I want
Check my phone three hundred times a day
I'm convinced you'll call and check up on me
It's embarrassing
Pick flowers for my friends
Give them to strangers on the street
A big empty front yard
Feeling alone when I shouldn't be
A sun room and a glass roof
No one comes around unless I want them to
No one comes around unless I want them to
No one comes around unless I want them to