Made Of Broken Glass

Did we try this more than one lifetime before?

You're stuck to the walls of my subconscious,

Last time ­ no more.

I'm glad you're gone,

I'm thinking straighter lately.

It's not my fault,

If I drive you fucking crazy.

There's no shortage of stupid boy distractions,

I'm still waiting for them to change the fact-

That I miss you.

And that black, motorcycle, wild thing,

Tattooed on your heart,

Along with something equal to broken.

I hope that you know,

I still want you,

(I never mean to)

Mr. Libido,

(Way to go)

Was she a C girl?

A.O.?

Aren't you a poor boy in a perforated mask,

All those things that I did to you.

You're such a poor boy,

I don't really care about your bad excuses,

I'll still admit that I miss you,

And your falsetto, circular, dance hall moves.

My scar,

Matched your skin,

By then you seemed to know we were broken.

I hope that you know,

I still want you,

I never mean to.

I hope that you know.