| Pulled from seclusion, dragged out of our room
|
| This construction is perfectly obstructing our view
|
| Paired up and placed back on to our path
|
| Compressed in this space that frames an awkward act
|
| The chance to make it last has come and gone
|
| Glass shatters with an unsteady grip
|
| No chance to catch the blood as it comes rushing in
|
| Too quickly pumping out from the inside
|
| Dripping into patterns strewn across my thigh
|
| Each drop spreads and spells a passage
|
| Soon I’ll reclaim this dull history
|
| The seamstress weaves shut the stitches
|
| But re-opens the same memory
|
| Two years have passed and nothings changed, that’s alright
|
| Still you just wait for that embrace, it’s alright
|
| There is only one thing that has yet to be said, I am holding back
|
| There is only one thing that has yet to be said, and it’s alright.
|
| Well it’s alright.
|
| Doesn’t matter there’s no reason to persist
|
| While avoiding all but that kiss
|
| Scraping cheek with your passionless lips
|
| From your side of things it’s not quite over with
|
| Well I don’t think that you warrant anything else but the truth
|
| Sorry, this time I’ve out done it
|
| But I know that, I know that you’ll lose
|
| I don’t think that she noticed that there was anything wrong at all
|
| Finally I’m free to leave
|
| I don’t ever really want to pull and push again unless you’re gonna fall
|
| There is only one thing that has yet to be said, I am holding back |