Out Of Touch

Pick up the pieces. Listen until it sinks in, or at least until you go crazy again. Anything to show you understand. The more you have a fit, the more I back away. Tie those loose ends up. The ones that you seemed to have cut. Why don't you f**king go? Why don't you show me how strong you are? Hey, am I out of touch? The things I do to keep your mouth shut. I have watched mistakes they take the shape of flesh and blood, and even a name. It's the truth that would tear your heart right out. You know, I calle dlast night just to tell you I tied those loose ends up, the ones that you seemed to have cut. Every moment you bitch, know that this is your shit. The pointed-finger play affects me less not that I understand it doesn't have to be someone stringing someone else along. I'll minimize all I want.