Laid

This bed is on fire With pa*sionate love The neighbours complain about the noises above But she only comes when she's on top My therapist said not to see you no more She said you're like a disease without any cure She said I'm so obsessed that I'm becoming a bore, oh no Ah, you think you're so pretty Caught your hand inside the till Slammed your fingers in the door Fought with kitchen knives and skewers Dressed me up in womens clothes Messed around with gender roles Dye my eyes and call me pretty Moved out of the house, so you moved next door I locked you out, you cut a hole in the wall I found you sleeping next to me, I thought I was alone You're driving me crazy, when are you coming home