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3 Months Itch
It always starts off happy,
The tragic story of how her heart became this bruised and scarred ball of flesh.
It always starts with girl meets boy and,
Girl falls like savages': "truly, madly, deeply."
She wears her heart on her sleeve,
Sharing her secret hopes and dreams.
Like the old love song,
She allows the smoke to get in her eyes and wraps herself in a blanket weaved by deception.
The first month was always the sweetest,
The second month came the questions,
And by the third month,
Well, deception cracks like old plaster on the wall.
First it was a hairline, then it starts to crumble...
It wasn't so much that the boys wanted to lie,
But the truth was always so hard to tell.
And maybe she only heard what she wanted,
Or turned a blind eye to all the bellowing red flags.
