We kiss like crash test dummies, no airbags deployed. Love in a trailer park, strung out and paranoid. You call me baby, but your phone got three other names. I call you mine — same difference in these neon flames.
Skank love, duh. What you expect? Daisies and sonnets? Nah, just cigarettes and neglect. You liked it rough around the edges, so I cut my hands on you. Now you’re surprised I’m bleeding? Girl, what else is new? skank love duh
So don't act holy now, with your halo on the floor. You knew what door you knocked on when you came back for more. It's cheap, it's loud, it's trashy — yeah, so what? It's us. Skank love, duh. Don't overthink the cuss. We kiss like crash test dummies, no airbags deployed
I’ll interpret it as a short, gritty, spoken-word / poetic piece about a cynical, messy kind of love. I call you mine — same difference in these neon flames
Skank love, duh. It ain't pretty or profound. It's a busted speaker bumping a half-heard sound. You want roses and reasons? Take a ticket, take a seat. This is dumpster-fire romance, baby — dirty and sweet.
You want my glitter, but all I got is grime. Love in the cheap seats, rust on the chime. You showed up lipstick-smeared, whiskey on your breath, Talking 'bout forever — I just laughed 'til I wept.