I had my first dream about you
and that's when I knew I was doomed
because usually I don't remember my dreams
and you don't dream of me, I presume.

I knew I was doomed from my dream
because it showed me that I don't trust you
and though I want to, my guard is up
ugh the feelings are ******* cobalt blue

I really had been fine up until our last session
but when you showed emotion,
even ******* paid attention,
I lost my mind in your hue,
you're ******* cobalt blue.

I don't trust people
and it ******* *****
I actually quite like you
but it's just a ****
some temporary lovin
to **** time I'd have alone
temporary huggin
just to make me moan
might think otherwise
because the signs you've shown
but this will not be love
it's just tiptoeing through the unknown.

Bouncing ideas off me while I'm "asleep",
I don't believe you, talk is cheap.
Then when you tell me while I'm awake,
it's worded differently--sounds fake.
I don't understand how you can do this,
love two people then tell me you reminisce,
then go on planning our possible future,
like she doesn't even exist.

I hate feeling like a back-up plan.
I'll never feel special to you, but man,
it sure would be nice to be loved again.

I'm at the point of drunk, I'm at that point of drunk
I'm at that point of drunk, that I can't even really type.
All I do is think of you and I hate being at this point of drunk.
I had a dream about you.
I had a dream about you.
That I was in a car next to my spouse,
in a parking lot.
You were the car parked in front of me.
I laughed with my spouse, then suddenly saw you,
I saw you.
Opening the door for your wife and baby,
I saw you and froze in a trance.
You finally saw me, gave me a smile,
and I will never forget what that felt like.

a place where I could let loose,
play the notes, sing the words,
with you, oh how we'd produce,
beautiful, on-the-spot experiences,
harmonies that gave me goosebumps,
I miss those times.

acoustics, kisses, songs, laughs,
time stopped in the music room,
but it's also where our hearts broke in half
with trembling lips, we'd make-up,
and lay on the floor for hours,
telling me you'd never want to break up.

If I were an android
if my memories were only
but implants in my head
what happened to the one that made me?
are my eyes really dead?
defining the real through emotion,
does that make you think I'm fake?
Do I even exist to you?
For ****'s sake...

there's no drug that takes you away
no remedy that doesn't let you stay
if there was a cure, it be not Monday.