Listen to the words I sing into the mic, sensual and desperate,
Feeling good and different, knowing it can’t be the alcohol warming your veins.
These words, they will capture you in a trance, letting you sway,
But don’t sway too far to one side,
Because than you will no longer be able to feel what I do.
Love is but a background noise, in this run down little bar,
First you are not sure what you hear,
Words mumbled and lyrics sung on a key to low to be heard the first time.
Then, you are curious, ears perked as you strain to listen,
Not knowing that once you’ve heard her the siren song,
You would never be able to go without.
It’s not like the relationships you watch through rose-colored lens,
Scripted and written with just enough tragedies to be romantic.
But I still crave the feeling I’ve never been able to define.
The chaos in the beauty of this thing called love was always hard to hear,
Few could ever amount to something as timeless and composed,
But, now, she has become an all-consuming thing,
Every thought, every action and everything is because of her,
And you struggle to find who you are without her,
(But you adore what she has turned you into,
Smart mouth and ever feeling and emotional to a fault).
So let’s stop thinking about the timing of it all.
And just know that we made the best out of what little time we had.