It's official.
Okay.
Okay.
Okay.
Okay.
Still, I stick around, spitting venom when we fight, but it's all love when we simmer down.
That's how it's always been throughout our history.
Good with the bad, mixing joy with the misery.
It's like I'm an addict to the toxicity, but you're here too, baby.
You must be as sick as me, seeing things differently.
That's a major part of it, but yo, this really doesn't need to be an argument.
Can we at least take it to the parking lot?
I'm not trying to make a scene up at the barn, but still you end up pulling me back in.
It feels like a magnetic attraction.
And I can't break free.
Don't know if I want to.
You say that you hate me, but still I just want you.
Yeah.
Oh, how I hate the things you say, but I love the way it feels when you're around.
And you're no good for me, like I'm no good for you.
But we're stuck inside this truth.
What can we do?
So I run in circles.
Dive my car.
In neutral.
I get lost in places I know.
A winter catch-22.
I keep getting nowhere.
Keep getting nowhere.
Nowhere with you.
Nowhere, I'm nowhere.


I keep getting nowhere.
Keep getting nowhere.
I keep getting nowhere.
How have you been to me?
I keep getting nowhere.
How have you been to me?




you