like a helpless captive, a distraught midwife   like a libran husband and a capricorn wife   i turn to wine and whiskey and these cryptic songs   maybe i'm passive aggressive or maybe i'm wrong         but don't go yet, old lipstick, old cassettes   clutter the carpet where my futile head rests    and i'd explain it, but i've long-since dismissed   the thought of vitality, you'll get nothing out of me   but don't go yet         and like a sore subject, objective pursuit   like a fearful me or an asinine you   and we avoid eye contact as i'm just dragged along   maybe i should just grow up or maybe i'm wrong         as soon as my eyes avert, more skin of alabaster   you don't warn me before, you just devastate me after   and like a dangling noose or like an endless sea   we both know how to love and i think you owe more to me