Give up all that straitlaced stuff
And cast off this ridiculous hand-me-down love
Harassing regrets covering under my pillow
Happy-go-lucky skeletons in the cupboard
…maybe I’m the harelipped son or the embarassing one…
I know there is some kind of hindrance
Or some confusion who my hankering’s after
I just don’t know!
And it comes that I want a ticket for your love
But I can’t see the box office
Love wounds that heal and some new that intrude
Things that invigorate and many more that pull you under
Scent of myrrh and incense concerns me a lot as it tries to break into my room
I don’t like it…
Your withered forget-me-nots remind me that hearts are just simple machinery
And sometimes they break down in pieces
But I will collect them and forge a new one
…maybe I’m deaf and I’m dumb but still I can smell some…
I know there is some kind of cure
But sure it won’t make me feel as high as I feel when I’m down!
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