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she's a liar and full of good intentions it's hard to know where to start when a part of you dies yet to the casual eye still appears to be alive what do you say words are scarce and sulky little bulldogs cowering in between the negatives in the drawer beneath the blu-tak beneath the sellotape decidedly scared couldn't we make a run make fools out of everyone and never let on how the trick was played in the evening butterflies come creeping it's hard to know where to go to dispose of them I'm sure I wasn't this cruel once but somewhere along the way I learned how not to care it was for my own good I shut up when I had to it's funny how we come to exercise this restraint in the face of uncertainty the face of adversity decidedly calm why grandma what big troubles you have all the better for making you pay my dear what's the point of being half in love still it's hard to know where to stop repetitive actions inevitable weathering systems take the strain ready to tug slide in the mud bully for us that fistful of butterfly dust scattered from a palm raised in supplication and hope but then I let go I let go and lost decidedly dumb with what I felt for you what I felt I ought to it's hard to know what to write when the pen only does alternate letters I look like I shiver I miss you ah yeah she's a liar and full of good intentions it's hard to know where to start |
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