no fun no fun I wanna walk around and pull on you but your hands your hands your hands aren't in my hair they pet your skin while you fidget and talk to him something like: 'you'll get bored too' and in your gloom I wanted to just feel your groom your little groom
play dead play dead i thought you'd spend all day in bed third time alarm scratch your head because no one has no one in an all day afternoon room of dust let the particles clouding up our lusts remind us that we'll get bored too in some assumed wanting to just be your groom your little
I don't believe the scent that you stole from all the roses left at your door give all the golden collars attached to leashes always pulling you back