Insurance

Well you looked at me,
and smiled.
Oh, and my hand stroke against yours,
so you reached.

But you don’t give me insurance,
you don’t give me a solid ground.

You say I look nice,
you never say I look best.
You make it look like you want me in your future,
But you talk with full glory about your past.
And I doubt myself
I keep thinking

you don’t give me insurance,
you don’t give me a solid ground,

And I need to realize it’s just noise in my mind
because standing in your arms,
All I hear is our brushing sound
Jup, realizing brushing our teeth together
is actually all the Insurance I need to find.