It's not what you think....
This is not A Love Song…
Whatsoever. If this wold were mine, I’d probably break under pressure. External stimulus, internal stressor. Nothing even matters, because nothing lasts forever. All I want is you, and sanity, and a clue, peace of heart, piece of mind. Residual is hard to find. & I’m not tryna pressure you, I don’t wanna put stress on you. Seems like I can’t get close, even when I’m standing next to you. I have 21 questions, like what about your friends? Cause you start acting shady when I ask you where you’ve been. So let’s have a pop quiz, tell me where my spot is. Say my name if nothing’s changed. Show me some acknowledgment. Then take these broken wings, and broken hearts, and broken things. Strumming my pain with his fingers, killing me softly as he sings. See I’ve got this jones in my bones for my baby. Falling in love, whether dangerously or crazy. Reading 4 page letters that I wrote but couldn’t send, O’s & X’s at the end. “All I need in This life of sin.” This is not a love song, but I’ll pretend it is. Then I’ll start from the beginning & I’ll say you’re just a friend.