My body's in sync with his, moving to the rhythm
but my minds off chasing the thought of your yellow-gold hair and ice blue eyes

he keeps asking if it feels right
and its so hard to lie
because I miss your hand on my thigh
so now I'm trying not to cry
I can't get air with hair blocking my windpipe

id like to tell you you're ****** in the head and you've made my life hell
but its hard to say ****** things to ****** people that you just so happen to love

I hate how much I miss your loud, obnoxious voice
but I remember how much I love the sound of it when you're speaking so quietly
and the way your hips curved underneath my finger tips
and the way you explain such difficult situations with such simplicity

its bad when every love song reminds me of your face

and your lips are like coming home after a long trip away