Once you told me,
I love you, I need you.
Now the blessed words had turned so damn dirty.
I told you,
I love you still,
but now our love is a open wound.
Now I need the iodine to heal the places that once felt so good.
You laughed at my words and you told me.
We decide how we die, we decide how we live.
Now we have whiskey kisses,
morning coffee and morning cigarettes.
Maybe too old to care,
maybe misery love company,
I do love you still.