We're sixteen again,
sneaking around at night,
pouring rain in the summertime,
quiet whispers in your teenage bed,
heavy breaths and covered mouths,
don't wake up the rents
And like I'm sixteen,
not turning twenty-two,
I don't know better than to break my addiction
and I come back again
to feel the poisoned fingers on my skin
May 28, 2015
May 28, 2015 at 7:09 PM UTC
We're sixteen again,
sneaking around at night,
pouring rain in the summertime,
quiet whispers in your teenage bed,
heavy breaths and covered mouths,
don't wake up the rents
And like I'm sixteen,
not turning twenty-two,
I don't know better than to break my addiction
and I come back again
to feel the poisoned fingers on my skin
