The Bus Barged Into the Pool Hall (Your Bass)

I feel like a wuss again Awkwardness in every covey of words That my mouth churns out While lips keep on moving after The rhythm of yours I don't remember the things I said to you Make it easier for you just by moving a bit Do you want a beer? Here comes the falling butcher Cogitating the cat's weight loss She aims the cue solely at yellow and red She's expelling but still drinks Stopped sensing heartbeats We'll stride till the tawdry dawn Hanged on a bough of oblivion Why even approach me Why even approach me Now that you hate me? Why even approach me Now that you hate me? Why even approach me Now that you hate me? Why even approach me Now that you hate me? Patently by letting yourself to savor you Is just how you satiate a starved curiosity Perhaps it wasn't the right time in our lives To be loved Yet by begging for slapping Straight to your cheeck Things will never alter the way They came to be Three days and one more for Hal And I still argue what it is That I miss You mislead And lose control Still kept on looking for more It's a gift which I'm not Worth of having Driving someone to brave himself With the use of The simplest words I do care At times I can't help the pother My eyes breed I guess that's us Perceiving in a disparate credo Don't you care? You've proved that you love yourself So why am I afraid for you? I hate it when you are drunk But I'll hold you like a brother We'll end up rubbing noses Like a mother and son And if you're feeling inhuman You'll again be defied by yourself You say the rusted child wilted off still You might love more than everyone Until Thursday I want You to take your time And think What do you really Want from Coraline? What does she mean to you? Anticipated singing of Unbroken songs Deep-laid sentiment of us being in awe Soaks in trust that pongs That pronounced sense of warmth Has sunk in pillows of Pruritus and barbs I waste my time Though I'm not sure of What I should say Anticipated singing of Unbroken songs Deep-laid sentiment of us being in awe Soaks in trust that pongs That pronounced sense of warmth Has sunk in pillows of Pruritus and barbs I waste my time Though I'm not sure of What I should say