Robert Frost - Mal Blum

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 want to 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

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

And 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