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Hustler

de Chez Moon

My mind proceeds with the thought
That there's some other guy who isn't I
Tear my eye, broken down on his timeline
My stomach runs on fumes

Nothing there but rotten perfume
It isn't me to lose my cool like this
With a smile, you turn the knife
Spill my guts on the floor
But wait, hold that thought

I don't wanna hear about this anymore
Brown eyes, drown the white stains
With ease like the flick of a brush
Lost our touch, but how long

Must I wait till we're done
Was it foolish to believe
Hearts and miss ya meant a thing
If it isn't me, then why'd do me like this

You smile, and turn the knife
Spill my guts on the floor
But wait, hold that thought
I don't wanna hear about this anymore

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