I don't miss your kiss, the softness of your lips upon my face, I dont miss it. And I dont miss the way we'd move & sway, like? a picture perfect painting of two lovers in the sun, so tell me why do I always end up in this position, its like the Spanish inquisition, thats the last [bad word] time that I ignore my intuition, its the last time.

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Tonight I'm racing fast as always, like a sprinter through the hallways of my mind, the maze is deep, and I can't eat, sleep, chew or raise? my voice to tell the [bad word] without a fight, and I may be wrong but I'm never far from right