kyle nemchek - save me lyrics
told her it was me
open and ugly
gave her the shovel
hoped that she dug me
now there’s six feet of
scorched earth above me
drowning out thunder’s
torturous drumbeats
i’m not through with love but it’s through with me
cause you were you and who was i
to try to redo or undermine your true design?
my cruel mind ruined by a fruitless feeling
reading into each new concealed hint
mistook a crooked look for sweet inducement
consumed with loosening the noose that you fixed
sending my troops to duke it out with toothpicks
find the spool of misguided pride reeling
until the credits roll on this whole foolish scene
and that’s it – not even good while it lasted
old-fashioned one-sided unrequited attraction
tires spinning while i’m in it bracing for crashing
second chances vanish as armageddon advances
save the last rain dance to command romantic enchantments
so it goes from elated to deflated
bitter sweet tasting, but better cause we made it
a spark begins flaming, burns out, then cremated
and darkness seems favorable to star gazing
no medicine to jettison the deft reminders left behind
sentimental sediment set in the sacramental wine
and i said to her
save me
and she said to me
were you too good to be true?
or was i not good enough for you?
tryna get this weight off the top of me
i’m going down and there’s no way that you’re stopping me
save me
lord knows i haven’t seen you in months now
your sax blows but i only hear one sound
dumbfounded but not done drowning
thumbing my nose at undertows surrounding
was it love or infatuation?
i summon patience while succ-mbing vacantly
to numbing agents administered to dull
this patient’s sinister pulsating hatred
in the end, i’m not sure you were a friend to me
do the things you have to do but don’t do them in front of me
it’s gonna be a long road – turn the keys and gun it
til we plummet from the summit
and my knees are in my stomach
cruise control
bruised and holed up
frail in a room alone
a tale of a student who failed to intuit
the basic truths of eros and cupid
my last token in the slots of hope can
disabuse me of the notion we’re reduced to folding
in a cold world where an ace loses
to a girl holding a pair of deuces
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