Trim It Short

I don't think I'll let this one go Although I'm stupidly far from home I'll say it loudly, but please don't call me I hate talking stoned Although we have to hear it Fuck it, I guess I already know by now Many miles, the crackled wind Please trim it short, I heard it all this season I don't think I'll let this one go Although I'm stupidly far from home I'll say it loudly, but please don't call me I hate talking stoned Although we have to hear it Fuck it, I guess I already know by now Unsettled sounds around My mouth is dry from wandering Land keeps expanding How to craft a world where we mean well Well I hate to say this Stop baying aloud the state you're in I hate to say this Stop baying aloud the state you're in I hate to say this Stop baying aloud the state you're in I hate to say this Stop baying aloud the state you're in I hate to say this Stop baying aloud the state you're in I hardly know you Still can't tell that you feel better now