The Mouth

I always want to believe you,

I always want to hope,

But I always want to hear a yes,

And all you say is "nope."

And then you make it awkward,

Barely speaking as you leave,

Like I'm some spoiled child,

Always tugging at your sleeve.

You'd think I'd just give up

That by now I would've learned.

But I've always been a fan of fire,

And all too eager to get burned.

So we go round this carousel,

Like we don't know how it will end.

Except we both know the truth,

We just like to play pretend.

Except it's always me

Who gets to feel the sting

I'm always sitting around

Waiting for you to ring.

And after all this time I'm tired,

And I know this much is true.

This time it really isn't me,

Baby, it's all you.