I’m always a fool for a sexy voice and a cute face
Oddly digging her more when they have little grace
And silly me for believing I could finally have her balanced
But holding someone up without my own support would never be my talent
I suspect she’s being uneven with another, while i’m trying to hold her dead weight
Now asking myself why am I in this oh, too familiar place
That somewhere that always reunites me with a drink
I sit alone listening to vitals lowers as answer my bruised heart with a lung that sinks
She finds me slurring speach on the corner as she pokes me with a stick
Telling me i’m such a responsiblity, i’m lucky she gives a shit
“What a coincidence”, I think; while she helps me up from the alley
When I gain my coherency, she’ll say she can’t do without me
And the fool that I am wants to see us holding hands
It never occurs to me it’s more than likely behind my back is another man
Damn my urge for never wanting to be alone
And damn myself for not reacting towards that unfamiliar scent of colougne
And I think she knows I don’t want to be without her
So she does what she does without any nerve
Oh God why is it that I need her
Why am I scared she’ll become a blur
It came to me a minute ago, while sucking on this rum and flat cola
That i’m just her lastest toy and soon it will be over
I’ve never been of the norm, and with that; I feel her tolerence lowers
Still, I always ask her what is her intention with me if she says i’m so different
I’m just a cute asshole that never fucking listens
I think she wants me to be smart enough to come to grips she has had enough of it
And when she’s not speaking with me, she’s on another’s dick
Maybe when she says she’s fingering on the phone another is hitting it
Shame on me for covering my eyes, when I walk through her door
Praying not to hear a moan or a man’s clothes fall to the floor
I sink into a deeper sorrow that I wish not explain
I just understand the feeling, the reasons; I will refrain
But there I am, holding my head as sun beams and waking in a puddle of vomit
Throat sore from the drunken yells, reaching in my pocket for a losage
Only to pick up a picture of her beauty
Thinking to myself i’m the only one doing this to me
And I think she knows I don’t want to be without her
So she does what she does without any nerve
Oh God why is it that I need her
Why am I scared she’ll become a blur
Tags: Ambient Music, Late Night Conversations With China, Tea
