six night stand, i cheated on myself again
but you're no consolation here
just friction, it's the dictionary definition
of truly not in love; nowhere near
like a blind man who sits, dress watch draped around his wrist
stopped at half past six, he doesn't need to get it fixed
he's just, keeping up appearances, woah
six months in i'm feeling like myself again;
confused and bored and very much alone
this friction that we make is hard to take
i try to fake it but these eyes are dry as a bone
beneath the shade of a tree, my guilty conscience gets me
not for what i have but for what i've not
but why do we applaud, the viscous and the flawed
and those who only keep what they have caught
it just rubs me the wrong way
baby! there's too much friction, between you and me (it's all rub rub rub)
baby! there's too much friction here, you know
between you and me... it's over
a lone stick or a stone could surely break some bones
but when coupled and pressed, used with finesse
they could spark a fire that grows, well
you just rub me the wrong way
you just rub me the wrong way, you just rub me
between you and me... it's over

KORREKTUREN ÃœBERMITTELN