Shrug - IDA

What is this weariness that waits for you shrug

You press your ankle against my arm

This is the pressure that i love

You always recommended it

Could be the door

Could be the phone

For any intent or purpose

You’re not home

You’re up against the wall

No real impression like breath on glass

I’ve got the apple in me too

People are bluer then they ever imagined they might be

Looking through the boxes in the basement

Who were you then

Your restlessness is emptier

Then the room we used to live in

Here’s wishing you the best

The rest is always better left unsaid