LYRIC

We've got problems/yeah I've got my share
Panic and Privilege/ senses to impair
And I left you there for good/ just like I told you that I would
Count to ten in stagnant streetlight/ you can drag me as far as you'd like
But you can't make me love you back/ and you can't make me react
And this quandry that we create/you can exhale or suffocate
And in text books/dictionaries/its described as Irrational
My volition now resolutes/ stab at upset I won't let you
And what we did on the night we met is now something that I regret
When it boils down to tiny vices you were left to your own devices
You chronically cross the line/and our petulance is intertwined
But you won't win, its not a game/and aggression is spread in shame
And in old songs/ friends advice/ its described as Irrational

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