not cos anything's wrong
but cos i think i'm right... sometimes
n she dont agree
which pokes the beast in me
brews up a storm
that over-rides the norm
of even the most volatile hurricane
but love is a hunger
love is a pain
so when words are exchanged
that would force the strain
to stress a dam
boy leaves the room, in steps the man
when she lovingly plants a kiss on my cheek
forgiveness is in the words we do not speak
Sometimes i dont even know we're fighting
but once she scratches, i start biting
and then there's yelling
and something's telling me
this has escalated into a lover's spat
where neither of us backs down
we turn up the heat
turn off our feet
so we're suddenly on our backs now
locked together like a lover's sandwich
long forgotten the hurtful anguish
to err is human
there we lay
man and his woman.
