You don’t know how to party;

this is the part where you admit that you only love me partly –
and this is why we’re feeling each other with no emotion. And for
the interest of love: you’re a bank that’s hardly open. Some days
you’re such are keeper, other times I’m your secret keeper – so dark,
so deep, the secrets that you keep; telling me how to taste all the
lies on your lips.

Burning me inside; dreaming of your fiery lips – there’s that filth
in driving my thoughts into you; taking ourselves to a gearing fifth.
You and I are both ******* up sometimes, like this world – where
man screws mother nature; treating her like a ****.

And that's why we’re not the love for each other; when the love
we have for one another, comes from a place of where we’re both
still trying to understand who we are to each other.

We forgot the part, where we're supposed to be lovers!