We broke down at the base of a mountain
Way out west past the Hutchinson plains
I was more lost than I'd ever been and I must admit I found it kind of ironic
That I was straining for a signal
While you were drowning in a sea of them
I wore you around my wrist for six thousand miles and 113 days
I reminded myself every day that the ground we were standing on was the same
Just separated by a couple thousand miles
And a few imaginary lines
I was counting the miles
You were counting the days
Ain't it strange that the numbers we wanted were moving in opposite ways?