Remove your hand from my throat
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My heart is too secure for your insecurities
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Your pathetic attempt to be mine and his has failed
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But only by my words was I the victor
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Now I killed this desire
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And it quickly became distaste
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Distaste for you (or what you have composed to be you)
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So please, quit wasting my time
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Spend more time on you
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Because it may take a while to remove your foot from your big mouth
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To the eye you are sweet
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But to the soul you are sour
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And I am no worse without you.
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|
-----------------
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Eight Weeks Of Privilege, No Time For Regret
|
| Nodes Of Ranvier |
