Did we try this more than one lifetime before?   You’re stuck to the walls of my subconscious,   Last time ­ no more.   I’m glad you’re gone,   I’m thinking straighter lately.   It’s not my fault,   If I drive you fucking crazy.   There’s no shortage of stupid boy distractions,   I’m still waiting for them to change the fact-      That I miss you.   And that black, motorcycle, wild thing,   Tattooed on your heart,   Along with something equal to broken.   I hope that you know,   I still want you,   (I never mean to)      Mr. Libido,   (Way to go)   Was she a C girl?   A.O.?   Aren’t you a poor boy in a perforated mask,   All those things that I did to you.   You’re such a poor boy,   I don’t really care about your bad excuses,      I’ll still admit that I miss you,   And your falsetto, circular, dance hall moves.   My scar,   Matched your skin,   By then you seemed to know we were broken.   I hope that you know,   I still want you,   I never mean to.      I hope that you know.