"Babe, there’s something tragic about you, something so magic about you. Don’t you agree? Babe, there’s something lonesome about you, something so wholesome about you. Get closer to me.
No tired sighs, no rolling eyes, no irony. No ‘who cares’, no vacant stares, no time for me.
Honey, you’re familiar like my mirror years ago. Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on its sword. Innocence died screaming, honey, ask me I should know. I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door.
Babe, there’s something wretched about this, something so precious about this. Oh, what a sin. Where to begin?Babe, there’s something broken about this, but I might be open about this. Oh, what a sin.
To the strand, a picnic plan for you & me. A rope in hand for your other man to hang from a tree.”