No Work For The Righteous

I gave her the bolt cutters without stuttering
Heart fluttering, nervous, chatting up and muttering
About the other things that have already built up, broke down
Repaired, destroyed, fix up and I know better now
Give a thief a key to the museum,
Handing matches to an arsonist,
Sitting down just to understand
Trying to get away and pardon this
is what I really am. I still feel your hands through
Rolled up sleeves and see my heart strong enough
to break promises like rocks against the waves and the sea
But believe me, I never thought I'd retrace
the lace from your dress and your breathe and
I'm a mess and in a sec, you'll forget and regret
ever picking up the phone to send me a text
I confess I never wanted it to be this way
But of course, the best laid plans of mice and men and those old cliches
These days, I reach for the clouds pinned on my ceiling
Waiting for someone to save me from the deep, I'm reeling
This feeling is something I'm all too familiar with
Too bad I can never get used to it. Billiards and english
Top spin, believe this, Jesus, wobbly knees is
Harping for nearness. I can make you some good grilled cheeses
But under the polices and watching eyes I am veering
Away from all contact but fat chance with that. In appearance
I'm just an almost adult trying to achieve something
Not nothing but the one thing is that the shadows bumping
and creeping in the background are seated and laughing
at my acting and my needing to be everlasting
When did wanting company and affection become a bad thing?
Good guy, good night, and the jobs go to the wicked
I'm about to call it quits but occasionally the call comes to
ask if if I just wanna kick it and the implicit meaning
of me coming over for this is that I really just miss it.