When I try to leave, you cry sayin you need what we got
then I say baby, start up the coffee pot.
I could hold you,
but I don't want to.These arms were made for someone who's not gonna deal with my shit,
and quite frankly you've never been able to fuel my fix.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
this is the dirty truth.
PoetryAs if rope could bind my wrists together so perfectly, so could this.