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