when you were so close
your eyes looked like dinner plates
blue as the atlantic
and harsh as an earthquake
and you didn't smell good
but you didn't smell bad
but boy, did i ever feel like i had to
take care of you
take care of you
when we were so lost
the road felt like home to me
our souls on the asphalt
and feet stretched in front of me
and it didn't feel good
but it didn't feel bad
and boy, did i ever feel like i had to
take care of you
take care of you
take care of you
take care of you
and with my hands
dancing on those keys
i could feel your beat
pulsing right through me
and with your hot hands
on my red cheeks
you would scream and scream
saying "you're not free"
and it didn't feel good
but it didn't feel bad
and boy, did i ever feel like i had to
take care of you
take care of you
take care of you
take care of you
take care of you
take care of you
take care of you
take care of you
take care of you
take care of you
take care of you
take care of you
take care of you
(and my thought stick like dust
to you wandering sugar fingers
and my thoughts bruise and buckle
like a side full of stingers
and your song of death
is a minuet
your lighthearted tone
speaks of exposed bone
where the skin is peeling and rotted
and if we could go home
we would know this is dumb
and these thoughts would be quickly forgotten)