The Obligatory Numbers Game

It’s the same look in your eyes
The same quiver in your voice I’m going on
It’s been there from the start
And I can’t help but feel I’m a predator
But our souls are both empty vessels
And voices offer no objections
Bodies creep like hours
And the ticking clock of our ambition
Counting down the seconds before we tear ourselves apart
Clothing falls in strips and pieces
And lips lock in the words we never want to say
It’s the way we bend for one another
The only way left to communicate
Would you believe me if I said you don’t mean a thing to me?
I know damn well you would; it’s the same excuses every week