|
My hands Come together |
|
And I draw in the breath through my teeth |
|
Your curt shots |
|
Sarcastic remarks |
|
Come so often |
|
They're never sincere |
|
Darker amusement sets in |
|
That's the problem |
|
You're saying something and my eyes |
|
Open wider |
|
And we grin and we stare at the floor |
|
Your jokes missed |
|
Your hands grow to fists |
|
And your lips purse |
|
Expecting the worst |
|
With every word |
|
That's how it started |
|
That's the problem |
|
And after we're done |
|
I can still feel your eyes on my forehead |
|
And after we're done |
|
I can still feel the pain in my free time |
