she said, 'go slow, don't move right through me'
although your hands are smooth, they bruise me
she thought she'd make it out alive
truth is, this love is eating her inside
and all i can say is, 'i'm sorry'
all these other words don't mean a thing to me
he said, real slow, 'i won't just sit still"
the curves on your body, they'll kill
he thought he'd make it out alive
truth is he's gone and lost his mind
and all i can do is run away
and all these other days don't mean a thing to me
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