Texty: Comadre. Hit Me Up On My Celly-Cell.

Our heads are a couple of cases
and i am everything and miserable without you.
three thousand miles can hold so much.
these miles of land.
the land is separation.

how much desperation in between?

like a phone call with no reception,
our heads are a couple of cases
and we're so miserable without each other.
can't wait till we
can see the same sunset
at the same time
can't wait till a phone call doesn't mean
three thousand miles.
i think our heads
are a couple of cases.
hit me up, boy, on my celly-cell.

i think our heads
are a couple of cases.
we are the doctors
with all the prescriptions.
can't wait till our appointment comes.
it's the only medication