You wanted to check out books on me

But they're twee

You hide them inside your library

Where affection isn't free

I feel rips on the last tome you gave me in your home

You had the foresight to hold me back from the gray ghost of Joel

I wanna be your issue

Say 'I do'

Fill his shoes

Match our grave tombs

I wanna be your Fix You

But Chris, do you still need to be writing your books now?

You're soil in the end so can't you see?

You are free

But flowers are never meant to be

In the creases of your book

You murder me in your Diary

See?

I can bleed

But now that you bought your therapy

I can see you cross the hall

A loaded gun

I had to give it to you

(A fire lights your nook)

I'm giving love

You had to bullet me through

(I slide inside your books)

I feel rips on the last tome you gave me in your home

You had the foresight to hold me back from the gray ghost of Joel

Your organization is thirteen

But it's cheap

Instead I'll be your sanctuary

'cause your passion pulls me back

I couldn't mask all the men who pretend to be friends while they wish you're leaving

So I'll be sat 'till the end with the wrens who defend I don't read Rob Greene's shit

(I know)