this is the point      where the eye and I don't meet   this is the point   that spells defeat   i have watched your unlove   written like tabloids   i had to stumble on buying my food   there you were   unfolded in headlines and horror   i love all those bits of you   i love all those bits of you   on the hardwood floor   where the bird imitates our fighting   you put the golf show on   to avoid my crying   you cup your arm to care   where the hurt went in   and well, why does it hurt?   complications of leftover racisms   why does it hurt?   you start the road trip off with accusations   of why does it      feel like i've been run over in traffic   scratchin in the dust of someone's leavin   punches in my gut   oh look i'm bleeding   not for you, for me this time, this time   not for you, for me   this time      just for the record, there is no record   it's a problem   there is no "this is what you said"   that's already gone   all we have are our love   and our guts baby   all we have are our love   and our guts baby   they're all over the road      you don't know the difference   between anger and pissed off   one is doing and one is feeling   one is doing and one is feeling   and i'm feeling   i'm feeling      feels like i've been run over in traffic   scratchin at the dust of someone's leaving   punches in my gut   oh look i'm bleeding   not for you, for me this time, this time   not for you, for me   this time      i need to be healed   i need to be healed      just saying it does it   just smashing it crushes it   just loving it douses it      just saying it does it   just smashing it crushes it   just loving it douses it   just loving it douses it      feels like i been run over in traffic   scratching at the dust of someone leaving   punches in my gut   oh look- i'm bleeding   not for you, for me this time, this time   not for you, for me.   not for you, for me.