The Brief Affair

Oh to be a fly on the wall in that room
I'd beg me to turn around
What we're doing is meant for lovers

You're at the bottom of every drink
In every breath I take
You're the thing that I can't wash away

And now you're playing my guitar
Moving my hands
You're the flaw in all my plans

You tell me to sing
You tell me shut up
You empty the clouds
You fill up my cup
And the rain is perfect piss

Oh to be a fly on the wall in that room
I'd beg me to turn around
What we're doing is meant for lovers

There's no forgetting you know
No erasing the climax
No undoing the high
No getting you out

Oh to be a fly on the wall in that room
I'd beg me to turn around
What we're doing is meant for lovers