"love, on the rocks"
Flatiron steam is rising in tendrils
Curling and twisting and framing his face.
You're sitting on the edge of his sink, tracing lines in the marble
While he spins stammering sugar that spills through his teeth off his tongue.
It tastes like "this is the last time",
With notes of "this was the first time".
It's flavoured "baby, you just don't understand."
The aftertaste
Comes bitter
And stronger
Astringent
It whispers:
"Let's keep this on the down-low."
This sweetness that's wrapped in commitment
Adorned with a price tag, and missing a bow.
It's all just a big misunderstanding!
He said, she said, he said he didn't know him or her,
And he never did, and he never has.
He never did anything
And she was the first time,
but you will be the last.
Electric cord sparking as you choke
hand-in-hand on the hairspray.
His vanity sparkles when the sun shines in through the window.
The drawers are empty, except for the last one
The last one has always been locked.
It's all just a big misunderstanding.
He's never done anything, so worthy of confessing,
or explaining or expounding upon.
So let's keep these words between us and the priest,
and this bullet between us and our eyes.
She could have been the first time.
You know that you're the last.
She had to have been the first time!
He insists, upon the last.
Happy New Year.
First-timers and newlyweds.
When else-inflicted tears have bled your young eyes dry,
think softly,
of the heart behind his smile.
When self-inflicted wounds have bled his old heart dry,
I'm sure he'll think of yours.
Resolve to do better next time.
It's all anyone can hope for.
Condensation on the window,
Hair dryer on full blast.
Yeah, she might have been the first time
But you won't be the last
You're not gonna be the last.
See ya in the next life.