Take a look at my body, look at my hands. There's so much here that I don't understand. Your face say these promises, whispered like prayers, I don't need them because I've been treated so wrong. I've been treated so long as if I'm becoming untouchable. Well content love's the silence, it thrives in the dark with fine winding tendrils that strangle the heart. They say that promises sweeten the blow but I don't need them.
You are really good food and I am full. I guess everything is timing and I guess everything's been said so I am coming home with an empty head. You'll say, "Did they love you or what?" and I'll say, "They love what I do.", the only one that really loves me is you. And you'll say "Girl, you kicked some butt," and I'll say "I don't really remember. My fingers are sore, my voice is too."
You'll say "It's really good to see you," you'll say "I missed you horribley," you'll say "let me carry your bag, give that to me." And you will take the heavy stuff and you will drive the car and I'll look out the window and make jokes about the way things are.
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