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Let me taste your lips on my skin.  Your heart next to mine.  Can we just lay here? But no, you had to leave.  Again.  I hate your job.  How you always leave me for it.  But something tells me you're not always  "just working late".  Maybe its how distant you've been lately.  Or maybe its how you smell like cheap perfume.  But when I come home to find another girl in our bed,  That my dear, is where I draw the line.  Kicking and screaming, You're gonna have to drag me out.  Yeah, you better run out of this house.  You'll have a nice surprise when you get back.  Clothes scattered everywhere,  Vases broken,  Records scratched.  You have to admit,  I did good at getting back.
0
May 23, 2013
May 23, 2013 at 2:54 PM UTC
Getting Back
Let me taste your lips on my skin.  Your heart next to mine.  Can we just lay here? But no, you had to leave.  Again.  I hate your job.  How you always leave me for it.  But something tells me you're not always  "just working late".  Maybe its how distant you've been lately.  Or maybe its how you smell like cheap perfume.  But when I come home to find another girl in our bed,  That my dear, is where I draw the line.  Kicking and screaming, You're gonna have to drag me out.  Yeah, you better run out of this house.  You'll have a nice surprise when you get back.  Clothes scattered everywhere,  Vases broken,  Records scratched.  You have to admit,  I did good at getting back.
kacie
Written by
American
May 23, 2013
May 23, 2013 at 2:54 PM UTC
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