I tell myself I'm better of
without worrying about the
bottle on your lips
the girl's number on your hand
I'm better off without late nights
you can't remember in the morning
and you wonder how the hell I wound up
in the shirt you were wearing the night of
the night you sparkled in the dim lights
of this west coast small town we grew up in
but I couldn't leave behind
there's a world I dreamt of your lips on
mine like honey dew I could almost
taste them this morning
but the aftertaste leaves salt water
tears on the tip of my tongue
and the days I spend away from you
are adding up and I don't got enough
fingers to count them on
the highway miles from here to where my head was leading
is closer than the miles to where my heart is leaning
you are better off without me
and my bad jokes and flannel shirts and
my indecisive eyes that jump back and forth
between your golden vision and raspberry smile
I tell myself I'm better off without you.