I Hate Sex
and yet it moves
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I'm counting all my small victories, and calling them yours
The ribbons hang from the hook where we drank champagne,
now it's hanging from the passenger door where we met at lover's lane.
The town wakes every day to stab the stake deeper into my vampire heart â you rang me out, and you hanged me to dry. I can't see my face in the mirror, so I wrote your name in the steam.
It's getting dark faster these days, but we keep on driving.
The last I heard was your laughter, and it's holding back the water.
I'm counting all my small victories and calling them yours.
I'm counting all my small victories, and I'm calling them yours.