I dribble, I spew, at the mere thought of you
So fucking beautiful but yet to make a serious decision
Plied in derision, an obvious division between what is right, what is oh so wrong
They said right from the beginning that I’d need a ferociously strong backbone
Thing is this though, no-one ever wants to end up alone
Plain as day to see that you’re the dog, I the gnawed upon bone
Shoulda really been the other way round entirely, but you pounded me down, sounded me out
That fucking beestung, sugar-lipped pout – God awful for all intents and purposes
Usurping everything
I want it, long for it every time you opt on flaunting it
I see I will indeed need my wits about me and a whole helluva lot more, how in the name of God is it that I came to adore something oh so tragic?
Perhaps the other half were right, that you do indeed bath in a certain kinda magic?
Fuck this, I’m growing lethargic all over again
Pick me up one more time, please, and place me back in my playpen