Verse 1) One final morning to sleep past the dawn. Tomorrow at eight, the summer is gone. My locker combination is written on my hand. Trying to look cool, just like I planned. He’s writing down lyrics, he’s blasting his rap. While I’m tracing my steps all over the map. His sixteen cool friends are gonna be there. Creating a scene in the crisp morning air. (Pre-Chorus) I get so defensive when certain folks stay. It locks up my jaw and it blocks what I say. But I’m looking at the calendar hitting the end. And I just want to see my Camp Pali friend. (Chorus) Tomorrow morning the entrance swings wide. Tomorrow morning I step right inside. Will I freeze in my tracks when I see his whole pack? Or find the right words to bring everything back? The seventh-grade pressure is locking my throat. Ready or not, I am shedding my coat. (Verse 3) My mind runs away to the start of the trip. To the window-seat view and the juice that I'd sip. When "DtMF" was the track in my head. Before all these nervous assumptions were bred. Benito was singing of frames that we missed. While I made a silent Camp Pali wish list. His sixteen cool friends weren't there for the joke. When he ate that bad s'more in the campfire smoke. (Outro) One day. The countdown is done. Saying goodbye to the mid-August sun. Three days of camp. Yeah, one day. No pictures to view. Tomorrow morning. I’m facing the crew.
