Letras: Dashboard Confessional. July.

It's yet to be determined
but the air is thick
and my hope is feeling worn
i'm missing home
and i'm glad you're not a part of this
there's parts of me that will be missed
and the phone is always dead to me
so I can't tell you
the tempurature is dropping and it feels like
it's colder than it oughta be in march
and i've still got a day or two ahead of me
till i'll be heading home
into your arms, again
and the people here are asking after you
it doesn't make it easier
it doesn't make it easier to be away
I'd like to hire a plane
and see you in the morning
when the day is fresh,
i'm coming home again
coming home again
coming home again
when the day is fresh,
i'm coming home again
well, it's warmer where you're waiting
it feels more like july
there's pillows in their cases
and one of those is mine
and you wrote the words, "I love you"
and sprayed it with perfume
it's better than the fire is
to heat this lonely room

it's warmer where you're waiting
it feels more like july
it feels more like july
and it's yet to be determined
but the air is thick
and my hope is feeling worn
I'm missing home
and i'm glad you're not a part of this
there's parts of me that will be missed
and the phone is always dead to me
so I can't tell you the tempurature is dropping
and it feels like
it's colder than it oughta be in march
and i've still got a day or two ahead of me
till i'll be heading home
into your arms, again
and the people here are asking after you
it doesn't make it easier
it doesn't make it easier to be away
I'd like to hire a plane
and see you in the morning when the day is fresh,
i'm coming home again
i'm coming home again
i'm coming home again
when the day is fresh,
i'm coming home again