You're bored again and craving attention;
take this microphone and spill your guts.
You think you're so dangerous...I should mention
that I will break your heart if you break my trust.
So listen up, because I'll only say this once:
I am drunk and impatient, and enough is enough.
I know your body like the back of my hand.
Picture this: my finger on the switch, the absence of light,
your hand over my mouth as the gentle flesh collides.
I know your body like the back of my hand.
I am the writing on the ceiling above your bed
at 3 a.m. (when you're trying to sleep).
I am everything that you never want to see again.
Your life is like falling from the top of the highest building
and not expecting the ground.
Falling away without a sound (it's like falling from the top).
Drink up...last call = last chance
to make it out of here in some other way
than stumbling and alone.
You're so fashionable
with your lit cigarette and your hipbones
showing on the sidewalk silhouette.
Go home.
