You told me I made you feel the way
I feel when I draw circles under my tongue,
but I'm not very good with new concepts.
Driving the nails into the coffin of my inhibitions,
I kiss your neck,
And fade into the knot In my Stomach.
There's a pill for it but I left them back home.
We drove to the little shop of horrors, and you told me to pick one toy.
I chose your teeth on my neck,
feeling the tonsils turn to molars and the molars turn to canines.
The records stops now, but I never stop spinning.
Wondering what you'll do next,
in the hopes of making a lasting impression.
An impression that would never stick,
Despite your relentlessness,
Because apathy is harder to kill than love, and in the end we both wont care either way.