They say you have a way with words but, really, I do not believe that
I believe you have a way with utter thoughts – namely an ability to painstakingly direct them on into me
See, you’re on a constant loop up inside of my own addled mind
I wish, wish, wish this particular record of yours was dead, or at least scratched for awhile, on out of my head
Crack this vinyl, please, you godforsaken tease!
Rewind and goddamn escape, I’ll wear a bloody cape If needs be
Prepared to wholeheartedly flee this all too polluted nest of deceit
You traipse on in, high-heeled feet, manicured, ready to wax absolute lyrical
Draped in your long-lost mother’s favourite pearl earrings
No need to bring history on into this
Steering me inwards, bringing the whole damn thing crashing down
All over me
I have nobody to wipe away these tears

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