if i could get your back against the wall, there's a strong possibility you'd get plastered on, just like you always did on the weekends, making sure not to make memories or friends to fall back on.
bet you didn't think you'd find me here.
i gave you chances to run and you crawled, i gave you so much to chase. i gave my body and heart to you on a goddamn silver plate but you don't give a shit about the passing of the days. i gave you chances to run and you just left them, swept under the rug.
i've been finding homes in other beds, but i haven't been sleeping much again. i've been finding "love" in other beds, if love is just a method to forget all of this
i'm so sick in the way i play my game, you're getting sick on the bathroom floor again. we're both sick of the back and forth and back again, the same old bullshit. i'm so sick in the way i play my game, the way they'd only guess and i'd never tell. the way i spin my web, the way i knock em dead, the way i send em straight to hell.
i took the blood from my eyes and i painted the sheets on your side of the bed, painted a silhouette landscape, it was a series of yellows and reds. but it's been days, been weeks, been months since you've stopped to rest your head. if all is love in a fair war, our bullets are all spent.