I know you too well to not know what you mean,
When you look like your love got lost in your teens.
I know you've told me before, but you meant something else.
You meant the opposite of the meaningless, you meant the one that makes sense.
I can't hear what you're saying, when you're screaming out loud.
I can't see the bigger picture, when you're flashing it around.
Come on, baby, pick your battles.
And stop picking on me.
You know me too well to misunderstand,
When I call you "my love" and reach for your hand.
It's not to hurt you.
But I don't trust you to take it - like I don't trust you with the truth.
I can't hear what you're saying, when you're screaming out loud.
I can't see the bigger picture, when you're flashing it around.
Come on, baby, pick your battles.
And stop picking on me.
I guess neither of us have any answers.
The only question left to ask is "does it even matter?
