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When you said you loved me, did you really love me or did the words just spill out like drool on my pillow. 'Cause I was naked when you said those words, but I felt covered in your whispered worship. And as you passed out fast on my shoulder, I imagined a child waiting so sad and still for his mom to arrive. Did she leave you an orphan, in that big, brown leather chair? Said, \" Don't you move a muscle, kid, I'll be back in twenty years,\" You were scared, you were lonely, but you must've been aware; life is a series of calluses, this is just another layer. So, build'em up, tough it out, yeah, that's your skin - don't let anyone under there.
When you said you needed me, did you really need me or was it just someone - oh, you'd take anything. Am I first on that list of yours, or am I second, or third? So, who's that ahead of me, some harlot from Pittsburgh? Or Detroit, Santa Fe, or San Diego? I know you're so alone, but how much affection does one guy really need?
Did you date a lot in high school? Were you always chasing girls? Couldn't you find some young valentine to steal your heart for good? Were you content, or contemptible? Are your memories pleasant, or is it a string of endless flings of bitter resentment. Seems that what you want and what you need doesn't mean a thing, we're just here for the taking.
When you said you'd hurt me, did you think you hurt me? Are you really that cocky? Oh, what a heartbreaker! Well, I've got my armor - yeah, I've been through some battles before - and I met your old girlfriend, she said, \"Baby, don't bother.\" She told me you told her you'd hurt her....funny, how familiar. So, how much of this relationship was rehearsed?