I've got a cupboard with cans of food. Filtered water and pictures of you. And I'm not coming out until this is all over. And I'm looking through the glass.
I am thinking it's a sign. That the freckles in our eyes are mirror images. And when we kiss they're perfectly aligned. . And I have to speculate. That God himself did make us into corresponding shapes.
I've got a cupboard with cans of food. Filtered water and pictures of you. And I'm not coming out until this is all over. . And I'm looking through the glass.
This place is a prison. And these people aren't your friends. Inhaling thrills through 20 dollar bills. And the tumblers are drained and then flooded again and again.
Will someone please call a surgeon. Who can crack my ribs and repair this broken heart. That you're deserting for better company. . I can't accept that it's over.
Will someone please call a surgeon. Who can crack my ribs and repair this broken heart. That you're deserting for better company. . I can't accept that it's over.
I was waiting for a cross-town train. In the London underground when it struck me. That I've been waiting since birth to find a love. That would look and sound like a movie.