i feel like dancing, but i hurt a bit too much to move,
so i watch myself pirouette around the room
take me, i'm never gunna let you fall
pictures of nights that were far less exciting than i was told they would be,
detergent and teddy bears lying on the floor
sad soft music singing my life in the background.
too much metro station
the love you left to die
makes my head spin.
i can't help that you make me happy.
tegan and sara can't be much worse, but they're certainly no better for my mood
oh it's a love type thing, a sure type thing
nothing is a sure type thing with you.
nothing is a thing with you.
i am not a thing with you.
there is too much mascara on my face,
and i should have gone to sleep hours ago,
and i'll wake up too early tomorrow,
and not do the work i meant to,
but it doesn't scare me as much as it should
because there are three more days,
then seven more days,
then five more days,
in love with a satellite.
nothing makes sense since you.