An Atlas To Solutions

I can't fix all the problems
I can't see it's such a mystery
I guess I'm not as perfect
as you thought
and promise me that when
I'm next to you
those telephonic words
were nothing more than our lack of presence
because I know when roads are blocking us
we forget how to feel

Map out the problems
and tell me where
I should have gone
I'm sorry
that our arms can't stretch
over states

So what's the point of asking
do you care
because all I can hear
are my apologies
so wrap up your
irrationality
and spoil someone else

I'll only ask you once

Map out the problems
and tell me where
I should have gone
I'm sorry
that our arms can't stretch
over states
Honestly I'm sorry I
always called at the wrong times