Picture a place that's far from danger.
A nicer place to cash your chips.
I'm not the one holding you hostage.
Squeezed in between my lips.
We're not supposed to be lovers.
Or friends, like they'd have us believe.
We're not supposed to know each other.
Accept my apology.
I was a babe stuck in a tree branch.
Banging on my rusty cradle bars.
Until I stole your middle finger.
Now who's the one in charge?
We're not supposed to be lovers.
Or friends, like they'd have us believe.
We're not supposed to know each other.
Accept my apology.
Vain, underground, fist, face down.
Bruise as they heal my pain.
Food on the flight.
Bread, fist, bite.
Draw from the orange juice crane.
Picture a person you've forgotten.
Kissing your brother or your friend.
Picture a wounded entertainer.
Cutting his hair again.
