Revolving Door Stops

Fake candy decorating a fake pine scented tree
Seasonal, but what better way to describe you and me
The need for our thing, I’ve been told has been locked away mentally
That my love for you has became your home away from home, escaping Lonely
 
Me feening for you like this only makes me weaker and weaker
This heart of mine is a punishment detector, a fucking pain seeker
Four empty chambers wailing like blown fucking speakers
Eyes unable to control the flow of an emotional leaker
 
By having the beaver that you have you return every year to gnaw this tree down
Dam up this creek, hahaha, and spread your fucking scent around
Each twig carefully placed with the greatest of care
That’s until you the hunter, the logger decided that love didn’t belong there
 
Taking with you, my little nightingale, that twinkle in your eyes
That cage of mine hidden behind your smile
Capistrano suffering until his Swallow decides to return
How can I deny her another night of watching Rome burn
 
Valuable lessons never studied, never fucking learned
I couldn’t wait until you suffered a break up and I could get another turn
This love is nothing but spoilt milk still being churned
Our supporters had best be ware that it’s none of their concern
 
Walking arm in arm exposed by the days magnifying light
While standing on the edges trembling afraid of the secrets held by night
Will she still be here comes the opening doors of morning
Or will she leave me again without me even knowing    
  
�