Your pulse, it’s all that I see, can’t help but wonder just how many men and their lives you filled with an unmatched sense of glee, whilst also taking them unmercifully asunder, leave them drowning in a sea of love
Pristine, when push comes to shove that’s the only word I seem to be able to use for you, all too romantic atop what can only ever be deemed an otherwise slur
Please show me a few new words, my girl, do I ever get to call you my girl, or is that another pipedream you may deem rather absurd?
Learn a little, or a lot, perhaps go as far as to take a shot, have a thanks-giving stab at showing me the absolute world
It’s not your fault all I do is dream about you, or maybe it is, can’t quite quench this Goddamn feeling, for good or bad, inside of me, some evenings all I want is you on out of my life, slip-slide, put plain and simply, an impossibility
Why, oh why did you have to turn out so beautiful, makes it all the harder, other men desperately looking to be your dutiful one, paying far too much attention time and time again, all I want to do is find them, gun them down, show the world they to be complete and utter clowns
A mesmerising degree of jealousy, insecurity, purer than pure, that’s for sure
Been through all of that stuff, tumbles, drunken fumbles in the dark, rougher than rough, searching all too hard to find that final spark, sometimes naked just ain’t enough, won’t quite cut it
And now I come at you again, all the hungrier, blindingly tough, a soldier both happy and say, forever and a day looking over his shoulder

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