What can I say? What can I say?. Hold onto this hand, I'm trying. As this fuchsia sun is setting on euphoria, I shatter. And I drive around town, I miss her.
Sitting still,. sitting in silence. as I ride,. ride these rails homeward.. Resting my head,. feeling homesick,. and aching for this girls sweet words..
Cant you see the sky is falling?. As these porcelain clouds dismantle. into shards of our affection,. it's raining on our secret scandal.. She keeps a photo in the cover.
Silence casts a ghastly shadow. over these familiar roads. and I cant see, I cant see the road to turn. down the alley into your house,. Im choking on these desperate sounds.
I fell asleep last night waiting for your phone call,. and woke up to the suns morning kiss with my wall,. and an imprint in my cheek from all my cell phones keys..
Does she have the fever,. coursing through her veins?. Its changing her demeanor,. makes her Supa crazy.. Flailing her arms about. a crowded scene dancing,.
Disassemble every word Ive ever mumbled, I am sorry.. Youre the girl in a tale of harlotry and deprecation,. and Im the boy caught in this wave of you mean more than the air I breathe..
Crumple up these dirty leaves.. Im getting too high to breathe.. And, as Im clutching lines in the street,. she just keeps text messaging me.. You dont even know what it means,.
Mind if I hold this hand over top of your heart,. as I search for a pulse somewhere amidst the dark?. Searching for a life form somewhere between the sheets,.
Rose petals, rose petals, are falling, are falling,. crimson and cinnamon in color and texture.. These veins arent so skilled at holding their water,.
Here I sit, so dorkishly inside this plastic lawn chair. Sandled feet clad to the balcony as Im taking in this Jersey air, and Im starting to think about a girl back home whos probably thinking about anything but me. Im starting to think theres nothing left for us, Im starting to think....
Turn down your inhibitions tonight,. cave in, darling.. You just might be the only thing I need in life.. Turn down your anger,. I could follow you home,.
Curtain call,. this is the last stanza Ill write. inside of this notebook,. guarded by angel eyes.. With teardrops of crimson that fall from incisions..
Her wrists bleed just for the attention.. I sit back and watch with discretion. at this old film that I shot in wide-screen,. and in Hi-Def, but just for the love scenes..
You better brace yourself cause the word is action.. Just know youve inspired this vernacular.. A broken record is spinning in circles,. adding dramatics to her razor blade dances..
I like the way that my shirt smells. when its been in your embrace.. And I dig the way that my hand feels. when yours keeps it company.. Under these overcast skies,.