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Holy Cannoli

de Walter Mitty and His Makeshift Orchestra

My perfect pin-up come off the wall
I ditched my buds for her bedroom but I swear it's not my fault
I think these feelings must be holy
This could be love, sorry love
I'd find her drunk in the street, kiss the puke off of her cheek, put her to bed
And in the morning my doll remembers nothing at all
I never said

But now our summer's bending two different ways
We talk like every other day but now the texts are getting shorter
Gotta sneak away to talk on the phone
I kinda mumble so nobody else knows
The conversations are sweet, real nice but nothing too deep, not like before
Still say I love you, but now the words are forced from our mouths, kind of a bore
Like we're not fun anymore

But now my pillows smell like you in the morning
I've got your stain stuck in my sheets and I'm like holy pfft cannoli
I've got plenty competition I know
She'll find a new man to carry her home
He's probably cooler than me, sleeps right where I used to sleep, right by her door
And in the morning they kiss, say I've never felt like this before

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