this is the point



where the eye and I don't meet

this is the point

that spells defeat

i have watched your unlove

written like tabloids

i had to stumble on buying my food

there you were

unfolded in headlines and horror

i love all those bits of you

i love all those bits of you

on the hardwood floor

where the bird imitates our fighting

you put the golf show on

to avoid my crying

you cup your arm to care

where the hurt went in

and well, why does it hurt?

complications of leftover racisms

why does it hurt?

you start the road trip off with accusations

of why does it



feel like i've been run over in traffic

scratchin in the dust of someone's leavin

punches in my gut

oh look i'm bleeding

not for you, for me this time, this time

not for you, for me

this time



just for the record, there is no record

it's a problem

there is no "this is what you said"

that's already gone

all we have are our love

and our guts baby

all we have are our love

and our guts baby

they're all over the road



you don't know the difference

between anger and pissed off

one is doing and one is feeling

one is doing and one is feeling

and i'm feeling

i'm feeling



feels like i've been run over in traffic

scratchin at the dust of someone's leaving

punches in my gut

oh look i'm bleeding

not for you, for me this time, this time

not for you, for me

this time



i need to be healed

i need to be healed



just saying it does it

just smashing it crushes it

just loving it douses it



just saying it does it

just smashing it crushes it

just loving it douses it

just loving it douses it



feels like i been run over in traffic

scratching at the dust of someone leaving

punches in my gut

oh look- i'm bleeding

not for you, for me this time, this time

not for you, for me.

not for you, for me.