lyrically exquisite

/1/

You were dancing in your tube socks in our hotel room,

Flashing those eyes like highway signs.

Light one up and hand it over, rest your head upon my shoulder.

I just wanna feel your lips against my skin.

White sheets, bright lights, crooked teeth, and the night life.

You told me this is right where it begins.

But your lips hang heavy underneath me.

And I promised myself I wouldn't let you complete me.

I'm trying not to let it show, that I don't want to let this go.

Is there somewhere you can meet me?

'Cause I clutched your arms like stairway railings.

And you clutched my brain and eased my ailing.

You're writing lines about me; romantic poetry.

Your girl's got red in her cheeks, 'cause we're something she can't see.

And I try to refrain but you're stuck in my brain.

And all I do is cry and complain because second's not the same.