I know you too well to not know what you mean, When you look like your love got lost in your teens. I know you've told me before, but you meant something else. You meant the opposite of the meaningless, you meant the one that makes sense. I can't hear what you're saying, when you're screaming out loud. I can't see the bigger picture, when you're flashing it around. Come on, baby, pick your battles. And stop picking on me.
You know me too well to misunderstand, When I call you "my love" and reach for your hand. It's not to hurt you. But I don't trust you to take it - like I don't trust you with the truth. I can't hear what you're saying, when you're screaming out loud. I can't see the bigger picture, when you're flashing it around. Come on, baby, pick your battles. And stop picking on me.
I guess neither of us have any answers. The only question left to ask is "does it even matter?