They say I should’ve paid cash for the Rockies,
and not let the tolls collect interest for two more years,
while I paid the minimum balance every month
for something I knew I never wanted to own.
I should have bought them outright
with every penny and dime I saved,
instead of defaulting for the Appalachians.
They say everything I shop for here is back in Colorado;
I throw out every item I buy here in this southern stockpile
after I pay more than full-price.
I should’ve known that after the first bankruptcy,
or at least after the land sharks came after my over-priced education,
or when the bottles sold me back my freedom,
and I have nothing to show for it.
They say I should’ve packed myself in a box marked fragile,
and bought a one-way ticket with insurance instead;
that I shouldn’t have signed my name to a city
I was never committed to.
They say I should’ve hoarded the thousand-mile-high-buzz
I obtained and to never drink Georgia again.
They say I should’ve,
but I didn’t.