You tell me things, I don’t believe you.

Cigarette burns on your wrist

I like your flaws, your’s mesh with mine

I’ve seen both sides and I don’t mind them.

But what concaucks has me gone.

 

Vodka and grapefruit, candles in bottles

yet Someone wrong still on your mind-

You tell me things, I want to believe you.

With now every moment set to clock

It’s up to me to find the hint?

Cigarette burns on your wrist.

 

Little lies you urge me to keep

from little friends that bitch me up-

You tell me things, I don’t believe you.

I’m worked in dirt, your hands are clean-

Even she’d agree with me.

 

I remember when the wounds were fresh

Pink and white and scabbing red-

Wrapped under black, when you spilled

You told me things I still believe.

 

Little things from you were kept.

As true as a tear in that windy night

Nothing ever could time right.

You tell me things, I don’t believe you.