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