You know you can cross Iowa in a straight line.
I like to think about that fact all of the time.

It's a little under 1/3 of the day to the state line.
And God only knows I have enough free time.

I'm not saying that I'm keeping my hopes high.
Just that it's beautiful we see the same skyline.

I like that at any moment I could look outside.
And from 551 miles away look into your eyes.

Unless we're both looking west... But that's just semantics I guess.

And it's just unrealistic, and in my heart, masochistic, to say I probably love you, when distance keeps it's subdued.

But it's the final feeling, I feel once a day.
I don't wanna say I miss you, when you've never gone away.

And it's just cataclysmic, and in my mind, sadistic, to say you're who I'd choose, when I'd never really 'tell' you.

But it's that final feeling, I've felt everyday.
I don't wanna admit I miss you, when I've never seen you stay.

My brain's a little polyrhythmic, and in my time, logarithmic, one half is steady on the line, the other half inclined.

To tell you this final feeling, I've felt day after day.
I don't wanna admit I miss you, when I've never heard you say...

Well anything for that matter.
But to me that doesn't matter.

I've brushed against the ceiling.
Of everything I'm feeling.

Too many thoughts are racing.
Both sides no longer pacing.

It's that final feeling, I never want to go away.
I'd be a nervous recluse, if I saw you everyday.

But it's my final feeling, I've never had the guts to say.
Until I knew you'd be dreaming, and never hear what I claim.

I'll stick to 'I really like you', in my heart it's not the same.
And I don't know what you think, but I think I know my aim.

But it's just unrealistic, and in my heart, masochistic, to say I most likely love you, when distance keeps it's subdued.

© inconsystent