“I... want you to come home...”
Sparkling sugar crystals and pink meringues – flooding. I’m scooping, I’m scooping! Big words and “if-I-lie-I-die-promises” all of the time and all over.
And I told you the truth: Teenage alcoholic who’s without visions, pretentions, ambitions, but with home cut boy cut, beer belly and conspiracy suspicions. And you told me the exact time of the commercial breaks and repeated the entire TV-program listings, “If we hurry up we might be able to catch the double episode of The Simpsons.” And I cried for drama and you said “If you’re going out tonight… Be careful, ‘cause I’m taking this Tuesday off from the glorious nightlife of Gothenburg and I won’t be there to carry you home…” And you held me - tight, felt me, your hands on my back – seeking… And I saw that you were way too young and I screamed “FUCKING HELL! I will destroy you!” But time took an earlier bus and we had to run to make time to say those damned words. In the drizzle on the bus station. I won, I lost. Game over, honey! You just sold your soul to a boy who could have developed into a common person.
Forgive me darling.
Sparkling sugar crystals and pink meringues – flooding. I’m scooping, I’m scooping! Big words and “if-I-lie-I-die-promises” all of the time and all over.
And I told you the truth: Teenage alcoholic who’s without visions, pretentions, ambitions, but with home cut boy cut, beer belly and conspiracy suspicions. And you told me the exact time of the commercial breaks and repeated the entire TV-program listings, “If we hurry up we might be able to catch the double episode of The Simpsons.” And I cried for drama and you said “If you’re going out tonight… Be careful, ‘cause I’m taking this Tuesday off from the glorious nightlife of Gothenburg and I won’t be there to carry you home…” And you held me - tight, felt me, your hands on my back – seeking… And I saw that you were way too young and I screamed “FUCKING HELL! I will destroy you!” But time took an earlier bus and we had to run to make time to say those damned words. In the drizzle on the bus station. I won, I lost. Game over, honey! You just sold your soul to a boy who could have developed into a common person.
Forgive me darling.
Inga kommentarer:
Skicka en kommentar