Curled into his own resolve
Illegitimate love of a splinted smile
A memory of muscles to softly dissolve
Hand wrapped in glove; enraptured a while
Falling for features of a tabloid turn
And blessed with the gifts of a narcissus twist
The romantic crop yielding cravings to yearn
Tainting the shallows under masculine mist
We are warm, we are loved, we are liars
Searching for something to do
It's the funeral, fan the fires
It's something to do
We lash out like cowards when cornered
And we kiss like there's nowhere to go
Little tastes of a life worth the waiting
In the dark, we pretend we don't know
Little tears in the seams of your mattress
Playing out tired scenes in my head
So the truth reads like pale imitations
Of the dreams that you carved into your bed
Lashing out at a life worth the waiting
Some things are better left unsaid