I saw the massacre of our egos,
and a torn up mattress that was just too old.
But I did not feel it,
oh, I did not see it for a second time.
You told me to stay,
but I think I'll go lay on the ocean.
Burdens fly by on wings of plastic heartbreak.
What would you do if I told you whose hearts they nested in?
And what if I sold away your secrets?
To the highest bidder, I'm sure they can take care of them better than I.
A few pretty words spill from your lips,
so let me press my mouth against yours and inhale them.
Pretty, insane words.
Inhale and exhale second-hand lies.