She told me that I am too kind, too stupid!
I'm the kind of stupid that believes that it was cupid
that shot an arrow our way some day when we first met,
and now I let these thoughts season my mind and write to not forget
a thing about her person; Every detail I will put aside
so I can reminisce on our first kiss and how we both collide
beneath the sheets and in the room where love is made so often.
Around her I feel one with life and feel my heart go soft when
her fingers touch my skin; When I begin, I can't be halted.
Taken with a pinch of salt, my life cannot be salted
any more, and there's a war that's still not over here
inside my mind, but I'm too kind and stupid, and I'm sober, dear,
but when I'm in the process of making these thoughts relate to you,
I can't help but feel so disgusted thinking I'd have hated you
if I let every way that you made me feel on that drunken day
get to my head. I lay in bed and overthink that fucking day.
It's silly but the truth that I was mad at what was said, and I
will always speak with honesty to you and never will deny
a thing because I'm certain that there's more to us than what we know.
The second you stop chasing what you're after things begin to glow.
