Sunday, March 6, 2011

"Last Call"

this night has no imagination
in dire need of some more education

tonight i'm gonna blow my cover
resurrect like some lost piece of art
every drink has a bitter taste
these promises won't make it through the night

this hole ain't deep enough for you and me
everything you say has a hangover
hurry home to a bed with one side
last call for any heartbeat in the house

there is always traffic in front of you
turning us on is enough to bore us
slow derail in every look you send
this home feels like a hotel

the kiss feels like murder but
you don't taste like the real thing

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