Talking to Myself

Calling Christa

Rolling vista

Blinked and missed her

She was a steeple

I'm at the depot

Trying to keep her

But I keep talking to myself in my sleep

Tugging on the corner of a love so deep

That it's all in my head

I'm coming back to a little place that ain't real

Rolling with the tide of the way that I feel

It's a total scam

Stoned at The Wishbone

I'm on the payphone

Called back the friend zone

Stepped on a nail

Unmarked trail

Christian bailed

But I keep talking to myself in my dreams

Holding out hope for the way that I've seen

Baby what you do

And every other night on the astral plane

Your fuckin' ass shows up in the pouring rain

Like a Roman god

Watching, waiting, fighting, believing

Yeah

If you see her, tell her I'll meet her

In my sombrero