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Monday morning, minus 18
Another west jet, YYG to Calgary
I always knew she’d get used to me leaving someday
A lot less words now, her tears have run dry
I can tell by the way that she doesn’t hold me as tight That she’s thinking maybe she’s better off alone
Nobody warned me, nobody told me
I’d leave there so broken and come back so lonely I’m killing my soul for the life that I’m leaving behind 2 weeks on, 2 weeks off
Blood’s wearing thin and my stomach’s in knots
Too much thinking about the time you’ve list
When it’s 2 weeks on and 2 weeks off
I punch in, hide the whiskey on my breathe
By the time the night comes, I take whatever I can get Blowing black gold money I shoulda sent home
2 more days and I’m east coast bound
I’ll be praying she’s there when the wheels touch down Maybe there’s a job home that’ll keep me this time
