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