a story left untold,
composed of a sentence that struck her
as going against the feelings she had.
of being so lost and alone she wrote:
\"I found replacement hands,
the fingers don't fit quite as well
but at least I know I'm not destroyed.\"
yeah, but you never were.

your driveway cement was wet
and as wrecked as a beautiful necklace.
the secrets we kept slipped down to our feet
and into the pavement.
I'll be the background, the scene and the setting.
my eyes are the words that you keep forgetting.
we're circling eachother like
\"who will make the kill?\"

remember, remember
the first kiss of december.

where could you be safer by yourself?
she's torn up at the seems, she bleeds.
\"how's life?\"
\"it's good enough.\"
\"i think we talk too much.\"
where could you be?
i stayed here by myself
counting petals that bloomed love but
it's not enough and fell apart.

the princess french kissed the pirate,
she said \"bring me that horizon.\"
you're gonna be bad for business.
yeah, you're gonna be bad and i can tell.
she's harmless and heartless, a harlott.
was i blind or reading the wrong plot?
i make my move on all fours,
between my jeans you make yours.
(when we were made, we were made inseperable.)

I know where you've been, I'm turning you in.

so, the ever greens have wilted rotten.
this is how it feels to be haunted.
this is my confession, dear:
don't let me get away.

\"was it true or courtly love?\" as he downed a taste of hemlock.
you counter dissonance by speaking with a mouth full of diamonds.
and if i'm not still stuck in your head then you still deserve the best bed
because all i ever got out of you was the best.

how do you stay in love when there's nothing to do but keep secrets?

this is the love where you're less of a human and more of a part.
this is the love...
this is that love.