Tacklebox

I never wanted a white picket fence I just liked your shoes and I liked your hands Maybe all I needed was a friend But I pictured your scars every night in bed Alone in your room ripping tape off walls Those things you loved you don't like anymore A trashcan sits in the corner high With posters and condoms and cigarette lighters And I don't know how, and I don't know why When I told stories you knew when I lied That I spent my days and all my nights In underwear hating the skin I wore Wiping ashes off my bedside drawеr And those nights you'd spend down on the wharf Fishing in thе dark 'til your back got sore Carry home your rod and your tacklebox It was covered in stickers that have now worn off And I don't know how, and I don't know why And I don't know how, and I don't know why And I don't know how, and I don't know why And I don't know how, and I don't know why I never wanted a white picket fence I just liked your shoes, and I liked your hands Maybe we were never really friends But I pictured your scars every night in bed While I touch my scars every night in bed