it's always the music that gets through the skin. like needles, like feelings put in a syringe. and im in need of an antidote, in need of a booster, something to get your tune off repeat. it's sweet, it's sweet that your face comes to mind, but what you wish isnt always what you find. i think i love your eyes the best, the way they move and the way they rest and scrunch up at the corners in a smile. and they way they always keep secret what's behind.
it's always the music that gets through the blood, that drips, that pours melodies that always become mixed in with the rest and what was there at the start, and quickly and hastily rushes the heart. your song's an enemy army and im on the retreat praying to venus for wings on my feet. i think i love your smile the best, the way your face changed when the the words were confessed and how your teeth are so perfect, at keeping the tongue bitten still.
there's always a music and my hands shake the time, but the lyrics stay same and the track's looped the ryhme. the progression, obsession, jukebox and a suitcase of dimes. id sing for you, boy, if you wrote the next line.