are you always so sour
or are you playing pretend
i can't make you as happy
as your best friend

but i can give you my skin
and the sound that it makes
when it touches the rim
of your ***** mistakes

are you always so sour
or is it the dark table
i can't really devour you
as good as that "black label"

but i can find you in ashes
and bring back your colours
with the light from the crashes
of my previous lovers

steal me a weapon
steal me a show
take me a picture
and pack it to go
steal me a reason
to be a nice guy
ask me to marry you
and then try to cry
let me go running
let me get back
tell me I'm funny
then tell me i ****
after you crush me
pick me back up
steal me a Tourette's
and come in to rub
stare when i curse
while you **** me a show
I'll tell you i love you
you'll tell me you know

we are going straight to hell
that's what she said
we are saving a regret
to keep us cold along the road

"are we going to a party?"
i never understood her fret
but i took my coat and hat
and drank my final round

she didn't even try to answer
she just went for the door
as i looked wryly at the floor
"we are going straight to hell!"

so how's the whiteness of your eyes
i wonder if i'm still surprising you
and if i still imagine flights
of objects that you threw

is the red a sign of water
or maybe it's the lack of sleep
your aim thank god it falters
but still i crumble in defeat

i never thought this whiteness
has anything to do with you
sadly, no amount of colour blindness
can deny your eyes of blue

i know, i know life's too complex
you tell me everytime i drown
but you know, you know we flex
just enough to stay around

burberry smiles
don't spare the denial
you keep what is yours
and you keep it a while
but you is not yours
so don't try to be nice
a regular smile
will surely suffice

i watched you sleep
i rushed to you
i trembled
at your feet
it's hard to cope
this missing link
this ransom hope
this crazy kink
you sip in me
you needn't
watch me sleep

my legs are hurting in these shoes
the road is hurting in my chest
i tried so hard to dodge the ruse
that put me in this mess
so confiding in abuse
i denied to choose
the road we started to detest

no man's an island
but every man gets hurt
when essentially reminded
that as an island
he is made of dirt

overtly sentimental
slide my hand through hair
not to pretend i don't care
not to save my face
but to see
no pace
can help us flee
we're staying here
and we're not done

the deepest of blues is always in home
it's never enough for you to remember
the other colours all stifle your thoughts
you're not 18 to go on a ******

twenty five is always an option
you thought about it sometimes
but pictures are no longer on paper
burning them can't be a crime

while i still need you to be
this impeccable version of later
you sip, forget and stare back at me
the deepest of blues is a faker