You’re hot and you’re cold
And scared of something I wish
You would have told me

Roses are red
Violets are blue
There’s more to sex than missionary
Just like there’s more to me than you

You were such a bad idea
And such a good time.
A hopeless case of a broken cowboy
Someone who couldn’t be mine.
There may not be enough whiskey
To make you forget your sins,
But you can’t convince me
There’s not enough tenderness.

A simple song isn’t enough for you
Because you think you’re so deep.
Careful there, love.
Don’t you think there’s something to be said –
Something sweet – in those simple pleasures?

After dozens of tiny thrashes,
I realize I was collateral damage
while you were busy whipping yourself.

You were right about a lot,
But until you love yourself
How could I expect that you could love me?

Yo bro, this might sound crazy
But your hot bod isn’t enough to cancel out misogyny.

I wish I had words to say what I needed to.
Words that would walk 5000 miles
And bring me back to you.

Is this how life breaks us a little at a time?
Or is better this way,
To simply dream of a different life?