You wanna climb up the stairs,
I wanna push you back down.
But I let you inside,
so you can push me around.
If I leave before you,
and I walk out alone,
keep your hands to yourself
when you follow me home.
I don't want love.
We wake up with pounding heads,
bruised down below.
I should have built better walls,
or slept in my clothes.
So if I see you again,
desperate and stoned,
keep your prison locked up,
and I will leave my gun at home.
I don't want love.
