Broken Spindles Figure Face Pretty Boy
You get soft, I blink
Then words fly out from where they shouldn’t be
I thought I knew
The tight-lipped wall, the stare, the cute
Your figure face is spaced above, away
From the ones who put you into place
When young love gets old
Don’t speak on a behalf that isn’t your own
Your figure face is spaced above, away
From the ones who put you into place
The figure face is blank, all they need is a name
To be black and white to be worth to read
You’re a pretty boy
You’re a pretty boy
The figure face makes the pretty boy company
The ends go out and go cycling
You’re a pretty boy, you’re a pretty boy
You’re a pretty boy, you’re a pretty boy
The tight-lipped wall, the stare, the cute
The tight-lipped wall sighs untrue
The tight-lipped wall, that stares acute
The tight-lipped wall sighs untrue
