I hate this conversation
Where you pretend to listen, so
I hate this conversation
Where you pretend to listen, so

His fingertips reach my frigid body
As again he's much too late
To find what he's reaching for
Strokes me as he would a prize
A desolate void behind his eyes
The game between wanting less and asking for more
Strikes a pinnacle here
In my bed
I believe

I hate this conversation
Where you pretend to listen
And sometimes understanding me
But most times missing the point
I hate this conversation
Where you pretend to listen
And sometimes understanding me
But most times missing the point

His fingertips reach my frigid body
As again he's much too late
To find what he's reaching for
Strokes me as he would a prize
A desolate void behind his eyes
The game between wanting less and asking for more
Strikes a pinnacle here
In my bed
I believe
I hate this conversation
Where you pretend to listen
And sometimes understanding me
But most times missing the point
I hate this conversation
Where you pretend to listen
And sometimes understanding me
But most times missing the point