Folly in the open carousel of summers condescending
serendipitous reviews of a soft song
You were singing to the dead; spider legs in the web that you were spinning
Soon the glory of our days would be done

She was keeping calm and cool, carried on; can't conject certain feelings
old or fairly new in play
So I watch with steady eyes as the lies, like kaleidoscoping ceilings
juxtapose what shouldve been with what was done

and we sing la, da da da da da da, la da da (it hurts less to sing along)
la da da da da da da la da daaaaa

Soon the time would finally come when youd make off giving me an inkling of affection that you knew I starved for
But better than just let myself fall prey to the compromising dealings
I could only shake you off for so long

Yeah you talk, ya you talk talk talk
Youll ruin yourself like that
But you still talk, why do you talk?
And when they talk, when they talk talk talk
does it complicate the feeling yet?
But you still talk, you still talk

When the resurrection came, until that day, you kept yourself in hiding
to avoid all the work it would take
but when our mouths they finally met; my nicotine and your lip gloss careening, I feared for the shitty thoughts id think next

But it was all just a game that youd play to test out your feelings
and I was just a catalyst
And when you were said and done I would be one who was without a feeling and theres nothing that I miss