it's silly to read into drunk texts
as if they are coded messages
with all the hidden meanings
you've been longing for
it's masochistic
that silly boy
with silly hair
and not so silly fingers
(wink, wink)
doesn't love you
and you don't love him
you love the way he makes you feel
the way his drunken slurs make you feel
you love that he makes you feel anything
in the first place
his drunk texts aren't your open door
they can never be your salvation
silly you

that phone of yours
that mind of yours
is playing you again