Did we try this more than one lifetime before?
You’re stuck to the walls of my subconscious,
Last time no more.
I’m glad you’re gone,
I’m thinking straighter lately.
It’s not my fault,
If I drive you fucking crazy.
There’s no shortage of stupid boy distractions,
I’m still waiting for them to change the fact-
That I miss you.
And that black, motorcycle, wild thing,
Tattooed on your heart,
Along with something equal to broken.
I hope that you know,
I still want you,
(I never mean to)
Mr. Libido,
(Way to go)
Was she a C girl?
A.O.?
Aren’t you a poor boy in a perforated mask,
All those things that I did to you.
You’re such a poor boy,
I don’t really care about your bad excuses,
I’ll still admit that I miss you,
And your falsetto, circular, dance hall moves.
My scar,
Matched your skin,
By then you seemed to know we were broken.
I hope that you know,
I still want you,
I never mean to.
I hope that you know.