Farthest from emotionless
Merit the mixed motions
Heed the hesitations
I have something to confess
Erase all the awkward assumptions
Avoid the awkward assertations
Inwardly ask if I'm well worth incisions
Side-effects of efforts to make a decision
Don't be cerebral
Let it be real
Break it down to it's core
He wants a touch more
Yet he feels like a whore
Bottled up lying on the floor
He leaves the room they're in
Thinks about where he's been
Wonders where this will go
Knows his soul's as cold as snow
But this girl brings out the best
Even though it's all a jest
All he knows is it's better than his last
But it's fleeting and will soon be his past
He feels his instability
Burn like a blitz-kreiged city
Whoever once called it home
Are all dead or up and gone
He'll tell her what's done is done
Tell himself he's free to roam
But to roam is to be alone
So she won't be his to own
She knows he's worth the incisions
She can't escape destructive indicision
She has her insecurities
Numerous as people in cities
Crowded, confusing alone in the crowd
No silence inside so she's thinking aloud
But she won't open up to him
She knows how that will end
Once again ripped limb from limb
This time she'll stop the trend
And she knows he brings out her best
Somehow he shines above the rest
But masochism's not her style
She'll be gone after a little while