P.S. Eliot - Sore Subject lyrics

Like a helpless captive, a distraught midwife Like a Libran husband and a Capricorn wife I turn to wine and whiskey and these cryptic songs Maybe I'm pa**ive aggressive or maybe I'm wrong But don't go yet, old lipstick, old ca**ettes Clutter the carpet where my futile head rests And I'd explain it, but I've long-since dismissed The thought of vitality, you'll get nothing out of me But don't go yet And like a sore subject, objective pursuit Like a fearful me or an asinine you And we avoid eye contact as I'm just dragged along Maybe I should just grow up or maybe I'm wrong As soon as my eyes avert, more skin of alabaster You don't warn me before, you just devastate me after And like a dangling noose or like an endless sea We both know how to love and I think you owe more to me