it's nights like this I still feel you
gently kissing on my neck
with the slight calm casualness of awkward sex
the kind that holds my whispers of "i love you"
and screams of your infidelities
while you beg and beg "just trust me"
was that just irony upon purpose?
I see your sweat, but never feel your lips
"I'm just her pleasure,"I think, as I grasped your hips
where do I get the right
to ask these types of questions?

I apologize in advance,
If I come off as quite emotionless,
but to think that the names and moans you gasp
could change, as quickly as our time has passed
quite frankly disgust me

Your sliding off our hopes
as I'm hiking up your skirt
while my tongue traces the curves of your body
and your hands search for hair to pull.
I'm guilty of getting myself in waist deep
but your guilty of drowning the rest of me
As you arch your back, I begin to wonder
"Is this making love, or is this love barely making it?"
where do I get the right
to ask these types of questions?

I apologize in advance,
If I come off as quite emotionless,
but to think that the names and moans you gasp
could change, as quickly as our time has passed
quite frankly disgust me

She's breathing heavily,
with no thoughts of knowing me
I guess this time things may be different
well just have to wait and see
I'm biting on her neck
while she whispers in my ear
"get those crazy dreams of us, out of your head"
"this is lust over love, romanticism is dead"
As the climax counteracts with the words
of hopelessness we just shared
I engaged in thoughts, not even I can bare
"if romanticism dead, then what the **** did we have?"
"if lust is all that's left, then this world is ****ing mad"
she gave a grin, with a brush upon my chin
"don't be so hypocritical, permiscues sex has always been a sin"


*my lyrics are all original and copyrighted "File Me In Fiction"