The early cars. Already are. Drawing deep breaths past my door. And last night's phrases. Sick with lack of basis. Are still writhing on my floor. And it doesn't seem fair. That your wicked words should work. In holding me down. No it doesn't seem right. To take information. Given at close range. For the gag. And the bind. And the ammunition round. Conversation once colored by esteem. Became dialogue as a diagram of a play for blood. Took a vacation my palate got clean. Now I can taste your agenda. While you're spitting your cud. And it doesn't make sense. I should fall for the kingcraft of a meritless crown. No it doesn't seem right. To take information. Given at close range. For the gag. And the bind. And the ammunition round. This is not about love. 'Cause I am not in love. In fact I can't stop falling out. This is not about love. 'Cause I am not in love. In fact I can't stop falling out. I miss that stupid ache. "What is this posture I have to stare at". That's what he said when I was sittin' up straight. Change the name of the game when he lost it. He knew he was wrong but he knew it too late. But I'm not being fair. 'Cause I chose to listen to that filthy mouth. But I'd like to choose right. Take all the things that I said that he stole. Put 'em in a sack. Swing 'em over my shoulder. Turn on my heels. Step out of this sight. Try to live in a lovelier light. This is not about love. 'Cause I am not in love. In fact I cant stop falling out. This is not about love. 'Cause I am not in love. In fact i cant stop falling out. I miss that stupid ache