You Treat Me So Well

Lately it's really easy to tell. The way you hide your face from other people, I see through it all. For me, it happened years ago. For you, it's happening still.

I legitimately can see the past on my fingers. It's hard to explain, but they feel so rough and tumble. It's not like I've done any hard work every day with my hands and that there's a real reason for it, but I can see it. The past. I stumbled into bed.

I stumbled into bed not really knowing I forget to clean it from time to time. I fucked up. I got poked with hangers and left my keyboard on the bed also. It was still on and I rolled over it and played an unfamiliar tune with my shoulder. I started to sing. The melody was foreign and I was channeling someone else through me. It felt real and I accepted it.