Lyrics Untitled - Arms Aloft

Untitled

Call her sweetie
Or touch her one more time
And I hope she sweetens up your F150's fuel line
An embarrassing leap to retaliation
But what else can I do?
It doesn’t seem like
Eye-to-eye here is an option
Hope that time tells us that your son
Grows up, despite your influence
A far better man than you
I hope he sees as little of you as I figure
You burn down hers with just your words
I’ll rip up a rag or two and we’ll fix ourselves a drink
When she strikes that match and takes herself back
I hope that my hands reek of gasoline
If that’s a real man
You can’t make one out of me
You don’t end up a predator just because you’ve got canine teeth
It’s a mindset that you hide behind.
tuck away your insecurities
Your only boldness is the fat fucking line that anyone can draw between
Your deafness to her struggle vs. propensity to hear me
Amplification not co-option
Safe the foundation, trim the rotten
You burn down hers with just your words
I’ll rip up a rag or two and we’ll fix ourselves a drink
When she strikes that match and takes herself back
I hope that my hands reek of gasoline