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you say that you love him, but you really don't know
you sour when he holds you, but it never really shows
he calls you by your first name, you call him a joke
and the moment that he kiss you, your lungs fill with smoke

you stay for the weekend, but you want to get out
you question his motives, but never ask them aloud
rushing into his arms where you know you'll be safe
when all this is over you'll still think it's a waste

and even though you know he's only using you
for better or worse you ignore all the clues
and you hope that someday he'll change his ways
it doesn't really matter, you're used to disgrace