You were rolling on x the night that we first met. You said you don't remember, its funny how we never forget what we'd like to but never recall the thoughts we're tied to. "Nothing to do tonight, right?" "Tired of watching us drinking?" Its wishful thinking. I'm still waiting for your admission of defeat, Is it the 90 degrees of midnight or the confession of this street that keeps you long? There's a hole in my tongue, and all the words I recited just fell right inside it. I'm trying so hard to keep from lumping into this sunken shape that I take when you put on the smile that greets me like a wave goodbye. Queer salutations are so hard to forget. Reliving the moments we've sworn to have never repeated, now who's mistreated? The push and the pull of the night I wont say I'm completed, I feel alright though I'm still waiting for your admission of the feet Is it the 90 degrees of midnight or the confession of this street that keeps you gone?
Lyrics submitted by crott_crott