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• Artiste: P.S. Eliot
• Titre: We'd Never Agree
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it happened a week ago tonight fuzzy frankness, under the unsightly yellow lights and the display of your seemingly submissive heart it's always over before it fucking starts and i'm not one to gush, i'm not prone to sensitivity we just wedge 3,000 miles or that i've got my whole life ahead of me and maybe you're just wary or maybe i am just naive but we'd never agree we yield to a feared and fateful clash or heartache or overwrought whiplash and these roles develop circumstantially you'll be my fodder, i'll be your reverie and i'm not one to gush i'm not prone to sensitivity we just wedge 3,000 miles or that i've got my whole life ahead of me and maybe you're just wary or maybe i am just naive but we'd never agree and maybe it's my fault, i can't cut the tie, i'm a masochist 60 hours, chased around and one elusive sidewalk kiss and i'm not sure what i expected, but i couldn't bear to hear that this is something you won't miss