I can't fix all the problems I can't see it's such a mystery I guess I'm not as perfect as you thought and promise me that when I'm next to you those telephonic words were nothing more than our lack of presence because I know when roads are blocking us we forget how to feel Map out the problems and tell me where I should have gone I'm sorry that our arms can't stretch over states So what's the point of asking do you care because all I can hear are my apologies so wrap up your irrationality and spoil someone else I'll only ask you once Map out the problems and tell me where I should have gone I'm sorry that our arms can't stretch over states Honestly I'm sorry I always called at the wrong times