The Final Throes Of My Extended Adolescence - Extended

Half past nine, think I'm making good time, figure noon I'll reach L.A
The whole way down, feed lots and prison towns, but I needed a break from the Bay
The radio dies in the San Gabriel Mountains, and my thoughts turn to where you're at

Language of love, it ain't my native tongue, I didn't learn 'til I was seventeen
I mumble dumb, I botch the idioms, and I don't know if you know what I mean
But I can read what you're signalling, when your eyes turn dark as storm clouds
I'm staying dry, but I better get inside, because it won't be too long now

I called up Robyn and she told me to drop in, she got a heart bigger than this town
Takes care of Dad and her ten month old, but she still put me up on the couch
It ain't a crime to wanna be held tight, it ain't a shame to wanna be alone
I wanna call and shout, "Babe I figured it out" but it can probably wait 'til I get home



Credits
Writer(s): Amina Elfiki
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link