You’re a real treat—

Vicious and malicious,

With motives suspicious.

Pressing where it hurts… or just kissing?

I can’t tell the difference—

You make it all convincing.

Blur the lines when you’re naked,

And I almost believe you mean it.

But I’m so easily manipulated

(When you say it).

You’re cruel, but at least you’re consistent,

And I never asked you to be different.

for one more night

(i can be a lowlife)

make sure there's no more light

(so i can't see the fault lines)

the ones you marked

(are the ones i'll cross)

i've felt remorse

(i've had those thoughts)

and sometimes you're speaking just to make some sound

(the lies i tell myself they sound that much more profound)

I’m on my way out, I’m on my way out,

Eyes on the edge of the horizon now.

If I aim for the sky, maybe I’ll hit an astronaut,

Crash into something real—better than what I got.

And if I burn on the way up,

Guess I finally got hot.

you're a real threat

the way you swear and you swoon

but i've become immune

to the things that open wounds

watching you like afternoon cartoons

i wait for times most opportune

to return each harpoon;

i'm emotionally marooned

and the longer i stay

it gets harder to say who gets the blame

for one more night

(i can be a lowlife)

make sure there's no more light

(so i can't see the fault lines)

the ones you marked

(are the ones i'll cross)

i've felt remorse

(i've had those thoughts)

and sometimes you're speaking just to make some sound

(the lies i tell myself they sound that much more profound)

I’m on my way out, I’m on my way out,

Eyes on the edge of the horizon now.

If I aim for the sky, maybe I’ll hit an astronaut,

Crash into something real—better than what I got.

And if I burn on the way up,

Guess I finally got hot.

I loved the version of you

That you created.

You loved the fact

That you never repented.

Maybe we’re both just narcissists,

Pretending we’re the victim—

I must be gaslighting with conviction.

Because I swear, I swear

I feel it.

But maybe I just need to believe it.

I’m on my way out, I’m on my way out,

Eyes on the edge of the horizon now.

If I aim for the sky, maybe I’ll hit an astronaut,

Crash into something real—better than what I got.

And if I burn on the way up,

Guess I finally got hot.