Are we still not speaking?. Bitter words leave such a bitter taste. Yes I meant to hurt you. But it was never meant to go as far as this. And still I can make no sense out of these things that I do. And I still put myself through this version of hell. Just put you through it too. Yes I know I started it. But you shouldn't say those things you say. I always thought people were meant to learn by their mistakes. But it never seems to work out that way. Nothing's ever good enough for me or good enough for you. So I still drag myself through this version of hell. Just to drag you through it too. Sweat on the dancefloor. Blood from the broken glass. No favours ever given no favours ever asked. This strange kind of communion. As these empty words are played.