I panicked,
I gave what I got and I landed,
I lived on the top of the Atlantic,
I’m stranded,
all in an ocean of gloss.
It’s romantic
with m
y head on the block,
my advantage,
I gave you the walk of my land but, I’ve had it,
I couldn’t accept what I’d lost.
So, listen...
Where are your standards?
You can’t be the lock to my heaven,
I won’t let you talk at my wedding,
it’s too heavy,
and it’ll
probably be dead anyway.
Where are my manners?
You’re welcome aboard my brain.
I can’t be the lord of my manor,
it’s a shambles,
but I’d hardly let love in the way.
So, listen...