A sure awkward walk on a hotbed of uncertainty, with you
One moment, an arctic drop in temperature and hellish hot the next
We both were always aware of the often extreme nature of this love.

There's trouble in the wooden floor, shining obstruse constructs
Columns fill to brim with inventive apology, a feigning look
Lover, I think of you so much, but my song falls silent.

The sky used to flood open, a giving, now uptight
But don't you think you could chill a bit
and realize that you overclassify love?