26 November 2006, 12:59:42
If you kiss me I won’t tell,
unless it really matters.
If I found out that you’d die,
from the shame of virginity,
I’d spread it all around,
about our escapades behind the shed,
that ended in grins and secrecy,
even if they just were fictitious daydreams,
fabricated by hormonal children,
confusing lust with Love.
My writers block has returned,
and I can’t finish the end of this lie,
I’ll just let it sit,
let it write itself whole.
Let’s play Chinese whispers,
and let it snowball,
out of all control.
Soon we’ll be living together,
and having a child,
when really were still sitting side by side,
only just daring to hold hands,
and ask how we both are.
We could jump on the band wagon,
believe it ourselves,
believe neither of us would have to leave,
until tomorrow.
Let’s play Chinese whispers,
and let it snowball,
out of all control.
Let it snowball,
out of control.