It's the space between knowing and forgetting
It's the shear embrace of almost remembering
But you still seem to ask me, "But why do you do it?"
And my breath hitches in question as I answer you anyway
I don't know why I do it, but it makes me feel
And you dare to spill that you can do the same
As Butter I stutter before I even say your name
"But why", you question once again
"If you know, then why would you Cause you pain?"
And I guess I haven't met someone yet
Who could make my dark mind seem like a lighter place.
And dare you question to ask again,
I'll tell you why in still the same.
