| You never missed a word I tried to fit
|
| Inside a chorus, inside a verse
|
| All my intros and the bridge
|
| That’s where I put all the awful things I think I am
|
| And if you still respect me, I guess I’ll have a second chance
|
| I want my hands in your hair
|
| I want my hands in your hair
|
| Pulling your face closer
|
| I told you last night you gave me butterflies
|
| You surprise me with new cocoons every time they start to fly
|
| I instantly felt like an idiot
|
| Embarrassed of the person controlling my mouth
|
| My mouth, it’s always in a melee
|
| Figuring out how as it talks
|
| Your response was comforting
|
| I guess, I guess I gave you butterflies too
|
| I want my hands in your hair
|
| I want my hands in your hair
|
| Pulling your face closer
|
| And closer
|
| And closer
|
| And closer
|
| And closer
|
| And closer
|
| And closer
|
| You never missed a word I tried to fit
|
| Inside a chorus, inside a verse
|
| All my intros and the bridge
|
| That’s where I put all the awful things I think I am
|
| And if you still respect me, I guess I’ll have a second chance
|
| You never missed a word I tried to fit
|
| Inside a chorus, inside a bridge
|
| That’s where I put all the awful things I think I am
|
| And if you still respect me, I guess I have a second chance |