(Instrumental Intro) Looking at you, always makes me swoon to the sound of your swan spoon. It was too soon for you to go alone to the moon. Done with the sun that shined too bright for my gun. Puns and buns are all fun, but look at the cooked booked crooks. Looks are deceiving Heaving my lungs to the fucking ceiling. Was always too believing of the feeling that sent me reeling. I'd never feel the peel to make the deal to want to stay away and at my heel. Another wheel to turn absurdly. Time keeps turning. I've always felt the burning of earning my spot in this healing hell. Finally felt the feel of that fell feeling that feels way too real. Now, let's make that deal.
