A/B

There is springtime in your words
It's the warbling of birds
I am not sure what you mean or what it has to do with me
There's a little truth to it
And it tastes just like your spit
When you tried to bite your tongue when it was stuck between my teeth
Your hands around my neck
To throttle or embrace
Phrases I should never speak
Spilling all over the place
It's what I really mean
It's a ticket straight to hell
Describe a fucked up dream
I don't care who you tell
Fed up being dead on
Fooled by a face drawn on again
And I'll throw up if this sad song doesn't stop ringing in my head
Darling, on the low, I can't turn it on and off you know
Shut down, blow it back, black out, and wake up all alone
Words I can't defend against
Terrible intent
And this noise inside my chest
Things that I should not admit
It's what I really mean
It's a stinging awful sound
And though I hate myself for it
I wish you would come around again