Licking your fingers like you’re done
And you’ve decided there is so much more than me
And baby honestly it’s harder breathing next to you, I shake
I brought a gun and as the preacher tried to stop me
Hold my heart, it’s beating for you anyway…
There is a delusion of us I hoped vainly to abstain
I’d lust after this dissolution, but it never remains
Both blank eyed, watching kaleidoscopic scenery
Against smoky shadows of automatic machinery
I am a Tom Sawyer stuck in the American Gothic
So drive a pitchfork in my chest, call me pathetic
I’m used to heaving, this deluded boy won’t think
Pastel pink of watered-down blood lining the sink
Now my tongue is fettered to the roof of my mouth
Preoccupied with my dizzy little girl from the south
Her poison scented soft like a postcard from France
Breaking off both wrists with her single cold glance
You gave me a present, I wasted it reaching the past
I swear these mnemonics were not supposed to last
I won’t be able to retrieve those nights that you stole
Crushed like my soul to draw my portrait in charcoal
Your silver necklace is beginning to tighten like a noose
The chain links are tiredly tarnished but I can’t set loose
I’ll die clashing against gold and in monochrome lockets
Please save my heart dizzy girl, and hide it in your pocket.
What if I can’t forget you?
I’ll burn your name into my throat
I’ll be the fire that’ll catch you
What’s so good about picking up pieces?
What if I don’t even want to…?