Twelve Days

Verse 1) Twelve sunrises left of this summer vacation. A dozen days left of this anticipation. I’m laying out shirts on the rug in my room. Trying to pick something to clear out the gloom. He’s got that cool style and his taste in rap beats. While his crowd dominates all the neighborhood streets. Those sixteen annoying guys follow his stride. While I’m trying to find an outfit to hide. (Pre-Chorus) I get so defensive when certain folk stare. It makes me rewrite every word that I’d dare. I’m watching the calendar crumble away. Anxiously dreading that first Tuesday grey. (Chorus) Twelve days till the bells ring out loud in the morning. Twelve days of this silent, internal warning. Will he notice my clothes or just slide on right past? With his massive loud circle moving too fast? The seventh-grade standards are making me freeze. And I'm dropping my head in a sudden breeze. (Verse 3) My memory drifts to the camp outfit he wore. A oversized hoodie by the cabin door. On the bus ride to Pali, the windows dropped low. We didn't care where the highway would go. "DtMF" was the rhythm, the track of the day. Before all this fashion stress got in the way. His circle wasn't there on the log by the spark. When he ate that bad s'more in the absolute dark. (Outro) Twelve days. Hangers and threads. Too many scenarios inside of our heads. Three days of camp. Yeah, twelve days. No camera, no proof. Just twelve days. Underneath my own roof. ───