Listening to a sad song, promised myself I'd stop,
On repeat, words thrown at me that sound so familiar,
Addicted to the sound, silence through my stereo.

Hate the words I'm hearing, but love the mood,
Bass playing, words that rhyme,
Keep changing my opinion of what everything means, every once in a while.

You lay down beside me, I hear you breathe,
Soft foot gently touching mine, the song starts again for the fifth time,
You turn over, but my eyes remain shut,

I slowly listen to the words,
                                                     But they're not about love.

Knock on the door, I shake you,
My heart’s racing, as the song plays again,
The words moving in fast-forward, nothing's going according to time.

                                         The paper has been scrunched,
                                                      Don't you see it shall never be perfect again?