A year on my own and I was thinking that I’d bring the hammer down
A better life had passed you by and gone while you were not around
You can give me a phone call, drop me a line
But I am not your friend; I’m your lover despite our lack of common ground
All I want is for you to say it hurt
But all I hear is the singing of a bird
Preambles and non-sequiters and glibly stated artifacts
I am yours, but I am not your friend I’m your lover
An invitation to the ocean state for the weekend to relax
I left the house with a couple of knives and a feather quill stuck in my back
I told you before I came, I told you twice
I don’t think I can do this again and keep my bleeding heart intact