Keep your eyes on the road kid,
I've no desire to be the flower on the central reservation.
The clowns are too impersonal,
And I like to think I'm worth more than the wide carnation from the unknown's grave.

I've been keeping my love awake with the groans of regret from a former self,
And she's been keeping her love awake with her silence.
She speaks volumes to me.
She speaks volumes to me.
She's speaking loud and clear.
The hands fall down,
The threads look pathetic on the floor,
Like suicide victims of a time well spent.
The lino looking back at me like I am a waste of skin.

How do I get myself in these situations?
Talk about shining armour,
Get me out of here.

I lay staring at your innocent skin wondering how I [bad word] this up, but I surely did.