<< : 2003-11-12 :: 1:30 a.m. : >>
Sunday morning breakfast bullshit.

I spent Sunday morning remembering,

Wearing your shirt, smelling you

Dancing til dawn.

The sunrise in my hips, sun setting in between sheets.

You put the sexy in your Marbolo Reds.

Playing Sicily driving me into regrets.

I'm trying to forget the picture in my head.

How you played my soul in between the darkness in between Guitar strings.

I spent my heart trying to remember the picture I drew of you, thinking you were all I need.

You never got the beats, missinterpreting ever string.

Pulling my cords, I let your symphony orchestrate my stars.

You burned yourself out of my skin, leaving slashes where love should have been.

I still remeber the scent of you, pulling at all my sins, but this Sunday Morning I don't sing to your souless skin.

I dance to forget, and sing to make you regret.

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