I...don't wanna talk to you anymore....I'm afraid of what I might say.
I....bite my tongue every time you come around....'cause blood in my mouth beats blood on the ground!
Hand over my mouth.... I'm earning the right to my silence.
In quiet, discerning between ego and timing.
Good judgment is once again proving to me
that it's still worth it's weight in gold.
From now on I'm gonna be so much more wary when you start to speak
and my warm blood starts to boil,
that seeing you is like pulling teeth and hearing your voice is like
chewing tin foil.