Robert Frost

I'm not Robert Frost
If I wrote a poem about the weather, it would start in my car
Digging out for an hour
And this town is all just dirt and earth
And a little lie and a bigger hurt
No, I shouldn't have left my house in the first place, I guess

But I always go back to where I'm meant to be
I go back to where I'm meant to be

So on a polar high that I found one night, it was cold outside
Where your frozen hands are so much like mine
But they don't compromise
Now I'm looking at the ground because I don't want you to leave
I know it's co-dependent, but I think it's kind of sweet
Out of every person in this city I could ever meet
Leaving feels like losing but I'm learning what I need

I go back to where I'm meant to be
I go back to where I'm meant to be
In the morning
In the morning

I want to know when it stopped
The eye of the storm
Everything is not what it was
I wanna know when it stopped
The eye of the storm
Everything is not what it was
And I'm not Robert Frost

I wish that I'd replied
I wish he hadn't died
I wish a lot of things
The day you lost your dog
And I lost my car
It was a Saturday

But the frozen air
And the frozen ice
And the biggest hurts
And the boldest lies are gonna disappear
Like the melting point
Like my melting rules
Like my melting life

I go back to where I'm meant to be
I go back to where I'm meant to be
In the morning
In the morning

I want to know when it stopped
The eye of the storm
Everything is not what it was
I want to know when it stopped
The eye of the storm
Everything is not what it was
And I'm not Robert Frost

I'm not Robert Frost
If I wrote a poem about decision, it would start and it would end in the same place