You drive me home
(And yeah we're half-******)
When the sky is pink
As the world is so much colder
Than the warmth of your sheets

Sometimes I think I'm just the
Concealment of your lonely boyish fears
(I snuck into your sketchbook
Where you drew yourself alone
With a black broken heart)
But even after I scratch warning signs into your back,
You pull me in just a little bit closer
And open up just a little bit more