The early cars Already are Drawing deep breaths past my door And last night's phrases Sick with lack of basis Are still writhing on my floor
And it doesn't seem fair That your wicked words should work In holding me down No, it doesn't seem right To take information Given at close range For the gag And the bind And the ammunition round
Conversation once colored by esteem Became dialogue as a diagram of a play for blood Took a vacation, my palate got clean Now I could taste your agenda While you're spitting your cud
And it doesn't make sense I should fall for the kingcraft of a meritless crown No, it doesn't seem right To take information Given at close range For the gag And the bind And the ammunition round
This is not about love 'Cause I am not in love In fact I can't stop falling out I miss that stupid ache
"What is this posture I have to stare at?" That's what he said when I was sittin' up straight Change the name of the game 'cause he lost it And he knew he was wrong but he knew it too late But I'm not being fair 'Cause I chose to listen to that filthy mouth But I'd like to choose right Take all the things that I've said that he stole Put 'em in a sack Swing 'em over my shoulder Turn on my heels Step out of this sight Try to live in a lovelier life
This is not about love 'Cause I am not in love In fact I can't stop falling out I miss that stupid ache