I let my hair down again
I feel relaxed, my hands grip less in air that's colder
Basing off
Of things I can't afford
I can feel the way a bank account
Is poorly painted red right by a store
You let your face fall, again
You feel my hands across tour skin as you roll over
I slept it off
You can't understand control
Overconfidence diluted
I'm not upset anymore, I just feel sore