I've struggled enough with this tension,
You rode it like a smooth pinto,
Only it wasn't the exploding type.
She leaned over the sink in the mall,
And let out another 10 pounds,
You'd love her when she's nothing,
And you're playing her like a mandolin,
Without the striking notes,
More like the white noise coming from your car radio,
While you're stuck in the backseat.
"What's the matter, baby?"
"Oh..it's..nothing..."
And proceed to use her for your pleasure.
But when my fist met yours,
It wasn't as friendly a gesture as you thought,
And I sought out revenge as you
Had another girl on your arm.
Maybe she's 'the one.'
But I doubt that anyone is.
So I hailed another cab and sped away.
