Sometimes I call, and it is just to chat, and it is so you will drown out his voice. Like a siren's beckon to the depths of the sea, the mud reaches out for me. It is too easy, in this town I cannot leave. And I want to play with fire, and I want to get burned. I know it will not quench my thirst, but when I haven't heard from you in a while, really heard your voice in my heart, his voice begins to woo me. The deeper into the desert I wander, the more I believe the mirage; that I could fill my mouth with sun bleached sand and find it refreshing. You are unaware that I am far away and I don't tell you I'm lost when I call. I just say " So, how was your day" and you aren't speaking loud enough, so I hang up, more lost than when I called you. I grasp at things on the way down. I fall in to the music and as long as it tells me the right things to do, we come out fine in the end. But don't let me travel to some old country song, because I'll cross that bridge and burn it when I get to the other side. I talk and scold myself all the way to your door, because I know that I'll regret myself if I do not. And I lay down beside you, hollow and voracious once more.
Sometimes I call, and it is just to chat, and it is so you will drown out his voice. Like a siren's beckon to the depths of the sea, the mud reaches out for me. It is too easy, in this town I cannot leave. And I want to play with fire, and I want to get burned. I know it will not quench my thirst, but when I haven't heard from you in a while, really heard your voice in my heart, his voice begins to woo me. The deeper into the desert I wander, the more I believe the mirage; that I could fill my mouth with sun bleached sand and find it refreshing. You are unaware that I am far away and I don't tell you I'm lost when I call. I just say " So, how was your day" and you aren't speaking loud enough, so I hang up, more lost than when I called you. I grasp at things on the way down. I fall in to the music and as long as it tells me the right things to do, we come out fine in the end. But don't let me travel to some old country song, because I'll cross that bridge and burn it when I get to the other side. I talk and scold myself all the way to your door, because I know that I'll regret myself if I do not. And I lay down beside you, hollow and voracious once more.