I was waking in your apartment.
Your white walls wore morning sunbeams like garments
A girl can only hope for
And a whore can only pray for,
Hardly remembering the love you'd say we almost made;
A ghost to show the mistake we almost made
If we did in fact get laid.
Do you think people realize
Morning sun is needed to symbolize
A blank canvas for us fools?
To start anew and actualize new jewels?
But maybe you think it's irrelevant
And you don't care to cooperate
Because you didn't skip a beat
(even with all that sweet light at your feet)
From where we had left off last night.
The ghost hanging above us like a kite
Except that I could feel it wasn't very light
And I wanted to ignite it with spite.
And here we were, even though you swore
You adored me enough to wait for
Your version of a gentleman's perversion.
You'd give me time before I burned with submersion.
You had located this beat wickedly fast,
Hardly asking me if I had found it outlast.
And my limbs were like a pony just given birth to.
I was trying not to fall through you.
I'm sure that's what most girls do
But I want to stand alone and not need you.
And all though I like you,
I'm not ready for this no-pants show.
I want to be able to dance fast, too, you know?
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