Signals Midwest
monarchs
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We broke down at the base of a mountain, way out west past the Hutchinson plains.
I was more lost than I'd ever been and I must admit I found it kind of ironic that I was straining for a signal while you were drowning in a sea of them.
I wore you around my wrist for 6, 000 miles and 113 days.
I reminded myself every day that the ground we were standing on was the same â just separated by a couple thousand miles and a few imaginary lines.
I was counting the miles.
You were counting the days.
Ain't it strange that the numbers we wanted were moving in opposite ways?