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tales of a needy desperado
You’ll hurt us again and I’ll just keep screaming how I need you— how they need you— how we need you.
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You’ll hurt us again and I’ll retreat back inside— I need you, they need you, we need you.
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You’ll hurt us again and I can’t help but think of how much I needed you, how they needed you, how we needed you.
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You’ll hurt us again, but I need you. You’re all that I knew, and I need you. Call it Stockholm syndrome, but I need you. Come home because I need you. Hold me because I need you. Tell me you need me too, because I need you, and I need you to need me too, and I need you to need me too. Come home because I need you. Get better because I need you. Oh baby, I need you. I need you.
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Cupcake, sugar pie, my golden apple night sky. Champagne popping in the summer sun at 12 am. Don’t you love my teasing, baby? I need you. Santa’s secret staff at the barbecue.
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I need you. Please come home, baby, I need you. Honey dear, my candied ear, you’re so severe. I need you. Feed my flames, don’t play the games that I know of you to play, because I need you.
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Step back from the fire. I know what you hide. Hold my candles, float them in the sky. Hover around my home. Don’t let go of the hold. I need you more than you know, and the immersion’s getting to me so badly I think I’m flashing back to the time where our babies were just fine and thinking maybe I’ve gone manic, thinking you were the top-tier golden good boy, top-tier golden good boy, top-tier golden goose that laid a golden egg.
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You’re the picture-perfect daydream. Had you been a little noticed by your peers and by your parents, by your siblings— oh, they feared it; they hated the thought of you being a golden goose, so they rotted your insides away off into the ether of riddles and misdemeanors... never to see the sunshine again, dear.
.
Lookie here, lookie here, look at what we found behind your ears— a silver quarter. Turns your luck around, doesn’t it, babe? But a drop of honey doesn’t sweeten the load, and a drop of luck doesn’t have a long way to go, especially if your luck’s gone rogue.
© Fae 💕
.
You’ll hurt us again and I’ll retreat back inside— I need you, they need you, we need you.
.
You’ll hurt us again and I can’t help but think of how much I needed you, how they needed you, how we needed you.
.
You’ll hurt us again, but I need you. You’re all that I knew, and I need you. Call it Stockholm syndrome, but I need you. Come home because I need you. Hold me because I need you. Tell me you need me too, because I need you, and I need you to need me too, and I need you to need me too. Come home because I need you. Get better because I need you. Oh baby, I need you. I need you.
.
Cupcake, sugar pie, my golden apple night sky. Champagne popping in the summer sun at 12 am. Don’t you love my teasing, baby? I need you. Santa’s secret staff at the barbecue.
.
I need you. Please come home, baby, I need you. Honey dear, my candied ear, you’re so severe. I need you. Feed my flames, don’t play the games that I know of you to play, because I need you.
.
Step back from the fire. I know what you hide. Hold my candles, float them in the sky. Hover around my home. Don’t let go of the hold. I need you more than you know, and the immersion’s getting to me so badly I think I’m flashing back to the time where our babies were just fine and thinking maybe I’ve gone manic, thinking you were the top-tier golden good boy, top-tier golden good boy, top-tier golden goose that laid a golden egg.
.
You’re the picture-perfect daydream. Had you been a little noticed by your peers and by your parents, by your siblings— oh, they feared it; they hated the thought of you being a golden goose, so they rotted your insides away off into the ether of riddles and misdemeanors... never to see the sunshine again, dear.
.
Lookie here, lookie here, look at what we found behind your ears— a silver quarter. Turns your luck around, doesn’t it, babe? But a drop of honey doesn’t sweeten the load, and a drop of luck doesn’t have a long way to go, especially if your luck’s gone rogue.
© Fae 💕
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