baby, darling, goddamn
you\'re making my head spin, split,
wrap around my limbs
twist up my stomach
sweet nothings--i\'m becoming a cliche,
feeling heavier than i weigh.
i think i just might like the idea of you
let me spill a little of my mess onto you
cross the 613 miles over to you.
i don\'t think i\'ll mean any of this in another week
but i wanna drink it up while it\'s still sweet,
while my knees still get weak.
maybe i\'m faking, maybe you only exist in my daydreams
but i hope you mean it too.
honey, sweetheart, goddamn
i\'m gonna choke on these butterflies
i\'ll be your psychopathic, anxiety-fueled heart attack
you\'ll be my reason to float, reason to straighten my back.
kill my nerves, bury my insecurities
make you real
come a little closer till it\'s gone,
till i need another fantasy to latch on.