The early cars
Already are
Drawing deep breaths past my door
And last night's phrases
Sick with lack of basis
Are still writhing on my floor

And it doesn't seem fair
That your wicked words should work in holding me down
It doesn't seem right
To take information
Given at close range
For the gag and the bind
And the ammunition round

A conversation, once colored by esteem
Became diologue
As a diagram of a play for blood
Took a vacation; my palate got clean
Now I can taste your agenda
While you're spitting your cud

And it doesn't make sense
I should fall for the kingcraft of a meritless crown
It doesn't seem right
To take information
Given at close range
For the gag and the bind
And the ammunition round

This is not about love
'Cause I am not in love
In fact, I can't stop falling out
This is not about love
'Cause I am not in love
In fact, I can't stop falling out
I miss that stupid ache

"What is this posture I have to stare at?"
That's what he said
When I was sitting up straight
Changed the name of the game 'cause he lost it
He knew he was wrong
But he knew it too late
But I'm not being fair
'Cause I chose to listen to that filthy mouth
But I'd like to choose right
Take all the things that I said that he stole
Put 'em in a sack, swing 'em over my shoulder
Turn on my heels, step out of his sight
Try to live in a lovelier light

This is not about love
'Cause I am not in love
In fact, I can't stop falling out
This is not about love
'Cause I am not in love
In fact, I can't stop falling out
I miss that stupid ache