Send my soul back to Europe for this night of excitement.
I wasn't thinking in plain terms, I had already read this in Santayana but I was only noticing that you were soft and pale,
My neighbors treat me so much better than you seem to (try noticing that they're people too sometime),
You complain and put up your false barricades to lower at moments notice,
Momentous when I'm out of sight and still carrying the remnants of scent and dreams of morning candles.

Turns out you aren't very unique and you major in manipulation, honing your skill and your art isn't to be displayed in public.
Will you say I broke my own back, or admit you were taking my head and changing your voice, ignoring what was right in your eyes?

I was already agitated.

Our last supper was in the front seat of your toothpaste green Ford, no mint on the floor,
To rub your collarbone and then wish I could take it back because you ended up in my bed...

But you made it clear that we were just friends, absolutely.
You said to stop, didn't you?
You told me it was wrong?
You didn't, I asked.

It was a game of consent and I lost.