Expiration dates are laying to waste
On every good thing we have
Under a hot hot beam of itching hot hot needs
Feeling good ain’t so bad

And I know you wanna kill me
But I’m just too clumsy
Stumbling into you to clutch
Everyday is just a way
To dig into the sultry
What I want is more than just love

I’m looking at labels
And getting an angle, okay?
Reversing the process
And seeing my options decay

Hold hands in the cemetery
Look back and feel new things awake
Gothic undertones are sharing
A new mistake

Casanova complex having its way
And it won’t seem to die
Having its hot hot say between your hot hot legs
Vice grip on a sharp lie

And I know you wanna be bad
With some good intentions
Close your eyes and open your mouth
Every time I hear you suffer
I can’t help but wonder
Why I keep on digging you out?

I’m looking at labels
And getting an angle, okay?
Reversing the process
And seeing my options decay

Hold hands in the cemetery
Look back and feel new things awake
Gothic undertones are sharing
A new mistake

Of yours and mine
They’re yours and mine
They’re ours
All ours

Feeling around for the bleak, 
Taking lovebites together at the dark side of the moon,
We’ve come across our love language.
A dialect of derelicts,
A moan in an empty room. 
Everything makes sense to me now,
Now that the tired songs of the lonely are live
When our tongues are braying over each song
And it finally hits your ear,
It’s going to sound like:

In The Reverse

Mellow Night Bass

A Song For A Son

Post-hardcore noise or something from Portland, OR.

In The Reverse

gasp.

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