Robert Frost

I'm not Robert Frost If I wrote a poem about the weather, it would start in my car Digging out for an hour And this town is all just dirt and earth And a little lie and a bigger hurt No, I shouldn't have left my house in the first place, I guess But I always go back to where I'm meant to be I go back to where I'm meant to be So on a polar high that I found one night, it was cold outside Where your frozen hands are so much like mine But they don't compromise Now I'm looking at the ground because I don't want you to leave I know it's co-dependent, but I think it's kind of sweet Out of every person in this city I could ever meet Leaving feels like losing but I'm learning what I need I go back to where I'm meant to be I go back to where I'm meant to be In the morning In the morning I want to know when it stopped The eye of the storm Everything is not what it was I wanna know when it stopped The eye of the storm Everything is not what it was And I'm not Robert Frost I wish that I'd replied I wish he hadn't died I wish a lot of things The day you lost your dog And I lost my car It was a Saturday But the frozen air And the frozen ice And the biggest hurts And the boldest lies are gonna disappear Like the melting point Like my melting rules Like my melting life I go back to where I'm meant to be I go back to where I'm meant to be In the morning In the morning I want to know when it stopped The eye of the storm Everything is not what it was I want to know when it stopped The eye of the storm Everything is not what it was And I'm not Robert Frost I'm not Robert Frost If I wrote a poem about decision, it would start and it would end in the same place