I just want to make love to what I know you could be, even if its all wrong for me, even if the imaginary will get way too deep, I just want that feeling of ecstasy.
But when you start to smother me, I promise I will run, and there won’t be a way to get back to me, because I’ll be searching for a different kind of fun.
So imaginary perfection I’ve created, don’t quickly disappear from here, but slowly become more faded, and make a real man whose love I will not fear
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Sometimes I want to scream this at people, then drop them out of my life, but I can’t because as soon as they need me again… I’ll be back