THE STORY:
I fell in love with a boy in a photograph. Some kind of straight boy dark, mysterious, and deliciously troubled. Our strange online conversations. Mutual masturbation. My excessive flirting to the point of annoying overkill. And after years of cyber strangeness he spent one evening at my house. We played Jenga. We showed each other our penises. And in the year that followed his manufactured distance and aloofness drove me to madness. I still run into him. Sometimes in the south. Sometimes in New York City. He once had the power to turn me to ashes.
THE LYRICS:
First I saw your car
Driving close to me
No longer just a voice
You stood in front of me
And I only talked loud to cover
How my hands were shaking
It’s good to make new friends
But I was problematic, friend.
We sat in my living room
I could tell you were warm - I could feel it
My hands still shaking
That spot next to you looked so empty
I didn’t wanna scare you
And strain communication
It’s good to make new friends
But I was overwhelmed my friend.
And I didn’t know the trouble biting at my
neck
And I didn’t know
I never had the strength to say I don’t think
so
And I still find intrigue in the things that
drain me
While I’m waiting for someone who’ll sustain
me
I wanted to tell you I’m sorry
You saw me break in half
Carry on – act like a freak
All because I thought
I was feeling something unique
Been the 508th priority in my own life
It’s good to make new friends
But now I’m wearisome, my friend.