You call it love.
But it’s clear, it isn’t one.
Fueled by the concoction of this thick syrupy melancholy
Which I drink like poison today.
I see things much clearer now.
You say you are suffocating,
And I can’t find no peace.
Drifting into insanity,
I feel things much nearer now.
You’re mixing things up,
Love and emotions
With fear and convenience.
Singing lies and lullabies,
Are you sleeping in the nights?
Because honey it’s 2 A.M.
And you’re talking to your friends.
And moving to a foreign country.
Choosing a life of misery,
Putting words in my mouth.
So, you tell them to yourself
And comfort your sullen conscience.
Are you sleeping in the nights?
Are you suffocated enough?
With this thing you call love.
Fear and convenience,
You mix in your coffee
As I drink my whiskey
And try to forget it.
