i was running late as ever when i saw
you in a new dress with a math book
i told you numbers spelled my future flawed
and you just smiled so i just said
silk left it's smooth on your skin
and roughed up more than many
you could be perfect with him
won't you be perfect with me?
the swirling sound above our private jet
might be a ceiling fan we rephrase
if my conspiricies make me forget
i promise i'll believe you always
