One night or every night Not a tear goes unnoticed The **** I love And the misery I miss Things I think about Though I love you my body yells otherwise I’m like the trumpet in Mr. Smith’s rose parade The only **** left on the streets I’ve been out of my house for weeks at a time But it’s missed when I get back Every song is a song to you Or a meaning to me The poem to me Which ripped me to pieces by the way Nothing will make me less sad I would take your womb and climb in I just want to be missed Too bad there’s nobody out there that still loves me Are friends good enough Not really Obviously it’s too much for you