due to babblin lips

When a man cannot remember what a real woman feels like cuz he's never been touched by one. How in the fuck is one suppose to know what the other is with so much to offer as done? Livin with the pieces of incompletion in a mirrors relentless undeserved image. After rounds of point blank range has shot every time down with a heart that has been damaged. What does a woman appear to look like in this day in age with his silhouette followin him as a shadow jus behind? Trailin the thoughts runnin loose of those that have failed to ease his unforgettable mind. How does one not linger into the distance of sight unable to see self reflected in eyes up close n personal? Fingerin the portrayal of honesty with two birds erect flyin high n starin at bein over emotional. Is it possible one will tap out once the feelin fades behind the rivers cried? As lids are shut to even witness the visibility standin in form unrecognized by the lies others has implied. Does the nights grow shorter as the sun awakens this world knowin one is unable to sleep watchin a new day of wonder chase away the silence? Stranded on confusions island lost with the best of them as distance is stretched inside the comfort of paved mileage. When faces change in directions time goin that a way gone til the end. Who becomes from within the over used depth no one knows of as truths are a best friend? Opened to the facts of reality goin numb time n time again in between more than satin sheets. Will questions be answered by a voice that speaks without two heads changin tones in tune with relations on the line that leak? Luv'n harder for a purpose to claim a home awaitin that tickle in the rib stickin to the side as if enjoyment truly lives. What is a woman if one simply doesn't know due to babblin lips? If she stood undisguised in person wantin to jus be seen for once before the walk steps. Will one know the difference, for in forevers promises hasn't been kept, n for some time he hasn't slept. For when he's over the expressions repeatin on the reel of the memories games. The hamster has grown tired of chasin the absolute of nothin to gain. As the blur shifts the monsters truth into a more unreliable focus. Snappin outta the hypnotic state of all in n shakin of the feel of worthless. How can the seriousness of gettin down to get after the bond somehow mean a fuckin thing? Cuz patience has thinned to the surface over the limit of fed the up to hear a melody catch anything believable to sing..