The early cars Already are Drawing deep breaths past my door And last night's phrases Sick with lack of basis Are still writhing on my floor And it doesn't seem fair That your wicked words should work in holding me down It doesn't seem right To take information Given at close range For the gag and the bind And the ammunition round A conversation, once colored by esteem Became diologue As a diagram of a play for blood Took a vacation; my palate got clean Now I can taste your agenda While you're spitting your cud And it doesn't make sense I should fall for the kingcraft of a meritless crown It doesn't seem right To take information Given at close range For the gag and the bind And the ammunition round This is not about love 'Cause I am not in love In fact, I can't stop falling out This is not about love 'Cause I am not in love In fact, I can't stop falling out I miss that stupid ache "What is this posture I have to stare at?" That's what he said When I was sitting up straight Changed the name of the game 'cause he lost it He knew he was wrong But he knew it too late But I'm not being fair 'Cause I chose to listen to that filthy mouth But I'd like to choose right Take all the things that I said that he stole Put 'em in a sack, swing 'em over my shoulder Turn on my heels, step out of his sight Try to live in a lovelier light This is not about love 'Cause I am not in love In fact, I can't stop falling out This is not about love 'Cause I am not in love In fact, I can't stop falling out I miss that stupid ache
