Every time you’re at my place
you burn a shadow on my face.
I don’t want to say I need you,
but my scars they ache to see you.
Every time I’m all alone
I read those messages on my phone.
I listen to Flower by Liz Phair,
and imagine your hands are tangled in my hair.
Every time I go down town
I fantasize that we’re the only ones around.
At the end, my heart it races,
and I make those funny faces.