Feb. 15th by Bright Eyes

all eyes on the calendar
another i claim of total indifference
to hear the days pile up
with decisions to be made
i'm sure all of them were wrong
into this song, i send myself
and with these drinks, i plan to collapse and forget
this wasted year, these wasted years
devoted frinds, they disappear
and i'm sorry about the phone call
and needing you
some decisions you don't make
i guess it's just like breathing or not wanting to
there are some things that you can't fake
i guess that it's typical to cling to memories
that you'll never get back, again
and to sort through old photograghs
of a summer long ago or a friend that you used to know
and there below his frozen face
you wrote the name and that ancient date
that ancient date
and you can't believe he's really gone
when all that's left is a fucking song
and i'm sorry about the phone call and waking you
i know that it is late
but thank you for talking because i needed to
yeah, some things just can't wait