Give me that summer love kind of bullshit

Soak me in every last moment of it

Play those sad melodies

Make me cry, hold up traffic, start my fucking fire

And when I’m in cotton

Yes only cotton

Remind me of the slaves

Make me feel guilty with your arms around my waist

And while I admire your tan

I’ll think of global warming

Beg you to come inside

Throw me on the floor

On the counter top

In the back seat

Beds are expected, and I want exceptionality

Till we’ve fogged up the world

Smear your hands across my face

And give me that hopeful kind of kissing

Whisper sweet nothings in my ear till I vomit

Buy me clothes that are too small

And I’ll cut off my waistline

With a machete

I live for this

Loathe it

Love it

Need it

Give me anything and I’ll swallow it

Tell me I’m a liar I’ll cut out my tongue

At the end of the day

All I ask for is rug burn, sad melodies

And all that bullshit everyone else puts up with.