On these streets, I watch my feet.
You can have my keys if you promise me you'll call it in, and call it off, and take me back to the place I'm from.
This is shallow, cheap, and boring, like a poorly dubbed recording.
Since you've been, I've filled the lack of persistance and religious tracks.
Making airplanes with your hips, I go down for another kiss, and realize while down there, I don't need to breathe any air.
We were both just nine years old, living in different episodes.
It's easy now to say we're not Combustable on Contact.