Some Sort of Lonely Butterfly Magic

somewhere I got all tangled up and run around
somehow you got away
somehow the things that joined us at the hip
the self-loathing and loneliness, it stopped being okay

now there’s so much I need to tell you
the right words don’t come til you’re not listening anyway

I thought we had some glorious secret
tiny and awesome, we held it close to our chests
now I’ve got to review all those words that we said
all the kisses we gave, the years that we’ve spent

signals got mixed, words lost in translation
somewhere along those tangled lines
maybe I would have seen what a fool I looked
if I had looked at myself in your blue eyes

and now I’ve got this feeling that if I screamed it
if I wrote it on your walls
if I tattooed it across your chest
if I wrote it in flames across your lawn

you still wouldn’t care why it is I come
every time you call
you still wouldn’t ask all the questions
to the answers I’ve been dying for

I remember the railroad, the feel of your hand
the carousel we rode so you could see me smile again
the smell of you, comforting, guitar and cheap cigarettes
did I misinterpret or did it go somewhere I didn’t expect

and now I can’t help but feel that if I screamed it
if I wrote it on your walls
if I tattooed it across your chest
if I wrote it in flames across your lawn

you still wouldn’t care why it is I come
every time you call.
you still wouldn’t ask all the questions
to all the answers I’ve been dying for

and I don’t know if I hate you.
I don’t know if I want you.
I don’t know if I know you.
all I know is I miss you.
I miss your stupid car and the stupid songs
and the porch swing at one a.m. when our folks were gone
and the way I never thought I had to answer
the question I never made you ask.
I was telling you all along, but maybe you
never really gave a damn, now that I look back

and maybe if I were to scream it
if I were to write it on your walls
if I wrote it in thick black letters across your chest
if I wrote it in flames across your lawn

you wouldn’t give a damn why it is I come
every single time you call.
You still won’t ask the questions
to all the answers I’ve been dying for

because who needs a goddamn answer
to a question that never came to mind after all

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