Honey you look like still water
You don’t talk much but I like the view
A corner booth could be our altar
I don’t need much, I just want you
Laying on your bed, I think this could be my coffin
Skimming through the books you pretend to read
Would you scratch my head, put on documentaries,
And make out with me
When my brain gets loud, come to my house
Your hoodie is my armor tonight
You can lock my door, cause now I’m sure
LA isn’t just somewhere to die
I’m not one to be romantic
Chronically predicting doom
But if the valley became a sinkhole
I’d be happy to go down with you
Laying on your chest, I think this could be my coffin
Tracing little veins across your sleeve
Would you scratch my head, put on documentaries,
And never leave
Take me to sister’s house
Take the box of photos out
Tell me stories, kiss my eyes
I love dirty lullabies
I don’t know if we’ll get farther
Cause I am anxiety’s daughter
But I can breathe deeper by your side
