The more I see it becomes easier to recognize regurgitation and I'll confess that I miss the bliss of ignorance sometimes even though I understand it's safer to know that stars in your eyes are probably headlights and the brighter they are the less time you have to get the fuck out of the way
Mike's playing Otherside in that magic way that acoustic turns electric into something new letting the words flow through and there's no way to shake thoughts of you, listening to one of your favorites meditating on the phrases that dance and tumble between my ears
As I sit on yet another side of the most recent iteration of us in distant reflection of the lies questioning which ones were mine if what I've seen with my eyes is coincidence or evidence
I don't need to ask if you're still a slut when the...
For all I think I've learned of love a forever unanswered question remains what does it means when it comes from you?
Those words that once flowed easily from your lips now dammed somewhere beneath your larynx in your time-honored farce that silence drowns what's left unsaid
So, here we are again in the vortex of our beautiful oblivion those precious parts we chucked into the jar pressed puree without the lid on splattering everything that ever mattered with persistent stains
We sat, not speaking a couple bar stools between not quite close enough to touch distance that felt insurmountable words ceased to have meaning as the bottle passed from one to another glances lingering longer with each pour until the silence was drenched with the only things left worth saying
Conversation returned with dirty phrases fevered and rough from broken tongues punctuated by claps of desperate flesh etching runes into skin messages for later language abandoned
Doesn't take a few to make me want to call just makes the urge stronger somehow, I've fought it off drink in hand or not playing, replaying those songs that make me want or want to cry or both, which is the real sweet spot no matter what I end up drunk on something
And I could crawl don't mind spending time on my knees but there's nowhere to go other than my bed where dreams of you wake me leave me shaking with the phantom of your lips not quite brushing against hungry skin whispers...
Now that the storm is lulling into a cleansing shower and it's easier to see the road ahead I'm waiting for the moment when I can relax against you stop the cyclones in my mind take a slow, deep breath
The drive ahead is still bumpy as far as the eye can see and I could make a game counting all the potholes in the way
Two points for the ones you avoid
While I might long to take your hands in mine I'm just going to admire them firmly on the wheel keeping...