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ten missed calls - braithwaite lyrics

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“i got to your house and saw you had mail. the letter had no return address. just your name on the front and a couple pages of text. i took it inside and told you, ‘someone’s got something to say.’ you looked confused. you always do. you said: ‘read it, cause i can’t. i’ve had too much to drink.’ it read:

‘dear ben, you said you missed my call; but you missed ten. they say that when someone needs a friend, you should try to be their friend; and i have, but you haven’t been yourself when you use your terms so loosely. ‘smoking’ isn’t what it used to be. and you know what else? i have gotten three new haircuts since the last time that you noticed; and somehow, i’ve managed to stop hating myself

i need you to come on with me but without the toxicity. you don’t even have to give up pot. i just need to know you’re not…’

but those last two lines were scratched out; and beneath them in their place were the words i never thought i’d read to you, sent to you from may:

‘i changed my mind. i don’t need you, but i need to be alright. alright? and you were right; although, you were high. so don’t apologize. don’t apologize. the other night when you called me i was fine until i saw my phone ringing and its bright light on the far side of the room, and i thought of things i’d do to answer you back when you were still in school and when you had a face that grew, not a face that decayed just like me and you. i need to be fine. i need to be alright, so goodbye.’

and when i finished reading, you said, ‘you’re f-cking with me,’ and i said: ‘no. i wouldn’t cause may is all you have or had.’ and now i’m telling you this again cause you don’t remember, and you used her letter as a rolling paper, a garbage can to put yourself in. maybe that’s where you belong. maybe may is right. don’t p-ss me your bong. i’m going home. good luck and good riddance and goodbye.” – roger

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