Panic at the Disco

Panic at the disco when 

I can't get to you soon enough

for me, I get anxious...but I'm ok,

I know everything's alright and

I know everything's okay, and

I just want to hear your voice

anyway, even if we aren't 

saying anything, it's something

to me...I just miss you after all this time,

and I know you'll still be there in the morning,

I know you're not going anywhere,

but sometimes I think until I can touch you,

it just won't stop nagging at me 

that this could all be a dream,

like a cocaine snowstorm, a haze and

sometimes a numbness.

Less than a thousand miles to go now...

How can it be real? 

So, panic at the disco, sometimes,

until I can get to you and hold you

and then know it's real because 

I've finally come home.