A little less cryptic?

Stop lying to yourself.
And if you're telling the truth, stop that too.
Who are you going to find? Really.
Not that you can't, you just won't.
Not the same. Not better. I just know.
I don't care. I don't care.
I'm begging you to try again.
What you love you fight for, remember?
What you love you fight for.
You are not inadequate. Never inadequate.
More than adequate. Everything.
My head is screwed on and I know now.
It's words in your head. What they want you to say.
If you don't think so, you're lying to yourself.
I don't give a crap about easy.
Real love is hard love, it's a break-neck train wreck.
Better or worse but what else can we do?
I'm tethered to you. Who are we fooling?
The failures and faults hold us together.
Reputation. Reputation.
You know what I say to reputation?
I say: Hrooba looba lobba. 

Still in love.

I screamed it at the top of my lungs
And you were in the room,
But you still cannot hear me
And I'm not sure whether it's because of the music.
So, you're not alone now,
And it's clearly my fault, despite
What you said many moons ago.
Silly, really, I thought he may be able to
Stitch or something, over the wounds,
The wounds of you. DEEP. Both senses.
Silly, really, I always knew only One
Can do that. I do know that. I promise.
But seeing that guy with his new girl,
You see, it didn't even hurt.
Because that guy was lots of things,
(And I'm sorry and I prep how I'll tell you everyday)
But one thing he never was,
He never will be, and nobody ever will be,
And 'oh gosh', that's scary, because
Nobody will ever be you.

I nearly wrote your name then, by purpose.

So inebriate yourself - and I'll clean your shoes - and put your hand on your heart and tell me...

'tis the season for your folly.

As it grows a little calmer,
A foreshadow of the moments away,
I begin to yearn,
Only now I feign it's not for you;
Question - is it habit or heart that tells me so?

As it grows a little calmer,
I tremble in apprehensive glitter,
I see it sparkle,
Only now I feign it's general,
Remember - this is never an easy time for lonely.

As it grows a little calmer,
You flicker a gaze, a low energy smile,
I feel it melting,
Only now I feign you're evil,
However, I don't think I believe myself.

An ocean of bodies holding hands,
Touching shoulders, waistlines, cheekbones,
I want an electric shock.

But in other news, I'm moving to a new apartment.
And it will be nice.
And I wonder, will you see this place?

The art of the human heart.

Flow down all my mountains,

Darlin' fill my valleys.

The mixture is eggy,

and the yoke leads me to you.

Maybe it's the scouse,

The welsh,

The little things.

The everythings and the connotations,

Inevitably you, unbearably fresh.

And then there's our tomorrow,

And 'what does he do now?' -

I didn't know. I really don't.

'What about what he promised?' -

I couldn't say. 

"There's a promise made in every bed. 

Spoken or silent, a promise is surely made"

You're probably here, 

(Either now, tomorrow, or tomorrow's tomorrow)

Because of tomorrow.

You're a liar if you say you're not.

In spirit, in mind, in fingertips.

I'm ok, if you ever wanted to know.

Not great. But ok.

To be alone with you.

Tethered heartstrings, worse or worse or better.

The welsh,

The scouse maybe,

The little things. Little me.

"Whatever promise she senses: Break it. Break it."

I've never been more sure of the dreams in my heart,

Of who I'm supposed to be.

And the world worries that we're liars,

But, you see, I've learned this of late:

We're the truth.

That's why we're a little unnerving, 

Because we move you -

Lies don't move you like the truth moves you.

I've found the second truth.

He is the first and last.

My art is the second. 

The truth of the human heart.

I'm dabbling in the art of the human heart.

It's magical.

I can't wait to move you.

Borrowed words.

I first met you many years ago,
Since I've met you many years have passed,
Most of which I've been trying to figure you out, of my life?
Where you go you leave a trail of chaos,
Your footsteps always lead to the same thing,
It may be hard for everyone to see what's going on.
But you can count on me.

Like a freight train without any freight...
I promise you, the end's gonna come, soon.
And like a hurricane, the end's gonna come.
As you know it should.

And right in the depths of despair,
Honestly I still truly care.
How I long to see you set free.
Now I know, the liberator can't be me.

Please

Talk to me. Give me some kind of peace. Say sorry. Or that you were lying. Or something. Because you don't know what's happening and the worst case scenario is you finding out too late.

The new plan.

Instead of worrying about winning them
I've just got to work hard at becoming who they need.
Then the right one will come along.
And if they're already along,
Then the right one will settle down.

One of them is good at this,
The other, the older, has never been so.
And that's why I'm still shackled.
So if I learn with one,
The right one will reveal themselves.

Just to be a hypocrite though,
I don't know how you just smile.
I just don't know.
And I read back some emails from long ago,
And I still laughed.
And I remembered that I'm not fundamentally unlovable,
I've just never been able to sustain,
To hold you. Any of you.
So maybe it's all my fault.

Either way, this is my new plan.
I am my new plan.
And you are my old plan.