post punk folk rock
I write tunes.
Lyrics
All of the stories you told him when you were not satisfied,
all of the cold and awkward mornings when you just stood by your lies,
You should have known you would trip
that he was was bound to read your lips, your broken kiss.
and all the lies, all of the cheating, all the tears running down your chin are keeping any honest soul from holding your hand.
And you kept on blaming him to justify our little sin
And even though we were drunk it was the last song doesn't mean that kiss was not wrong.