basket of almosts

The book you gave me Has been sitting on my nightstand for Eighteen days I've been sitting waiting here for your phone call, but Now it's too late I've been wanting this for so long, so bad, but The time never came There's nowhere to go Nothing to hold Just a basket of almosts to fit in my hand A basket of almosts To burn in my bed A basket of almosts To fill up my head I often stop and catch myself from drifting off to A foggy state Where I imagine everything that we could be if we Just escaped Another place, another time A different path, a different life Where your father would apologize But he won't, just like you He can't bring himself to Now there's nowhere to go Nothing to hold Just a basket of almosts to fit in my hand A basket of almosts To burn in my bed A basket of almosts To f*ck with my head I made it so easy for you Told you just what to do Now I find myself hating you Or at least trying to How did we end up this way Drunk on all of this pain (I'm drinking, I'm thinking) I guess that you really have nothing left to say Just a basket of almosts A basket of almosts Like "I'm almost ready" "I almost love you" "I almost need you" "I almost trust you" But you never could write me a part in your play You chose to downgrade all the choices we made To a basket of almosts A basket of almosts A basket of almosts There's nowhere to go Nothing to hold Just a basket of almosts to fit in my hand A basket of almosts To burn in my bed A basket of almosts To fill up my head