You name feels like acid in my tounge and it burns away whatever was left

Your name feels like acid in my tounge and it burns away whatever was left.

But I always did enjoy bittersweetness, didn’t I?

And even if I didn’t, I’d force myself to endure the bitter part

Because I kept telling myself sweet will come, sweet will come

(A motto much like: I do believe in magic, I do, I do!)

But I was never one to accept seeing through shady mirrors

And two faced desguises. How can I know that the

Face behind your own isn’t just another mask?

With words that sound like poised butter

Like when lovers aren’t feeling so connected

And it’s funny, because I’ve always been a better friend

Then a girlfriend, so tough luck.

I guess love is just really not my thing.