Idaho is cold,
cold in December.
And I lost my head,
lost it in November.
remember that gray room,
full of music,
where you'd sit with me, ooo
and we'd talk quietly.
cuz I havent forgotten what this string around my wrist means,
I havent forgotten the way you laugh when you say things,
but that doesnt mean I'm home free.
Sometimes I just got to sort things out.
So just give me space,
and your small hands,
and I'll be fine
when this ordeal ends.
so just Give me time,
and easy equations,
and I'll solve it, ooo
with my heavy thoughts.
so I get real real depressed,
and I think alot of mad things,
but I always round it out again,
and push the pressure off of me.
cuz I havent forgotten what this string around my wrist means,
I havent forgotten the way you laugh when you say things,
but that doesnt mean I'm home free.
Sometimes I just got to sort things out.
