this is the moment that you know
that you told you loved her but you don’t.
you touch her skin and then you think
that she is beautiful but she don’t mean a thing to me.
yeah, she is beautiful but she don’t mean a thing to me.
I spent two weeks in Silverlake
the California sun cascading down my face
there was a girl with light brown streaks
and she was beautiful but she didn’t mean a thing to me.
yeah she was beautiful but she didn’t mean a thing to me.
wanted to believe in all the words that I was speaking
as we moved together in the dark
and all the friends that I was telling
and all the playful misspellings
and every bite I gave you left a mark
tiny vessels oozed into your neck
and formed the bruises
that you said you didn’t want to fade
but they did and so did I that day
all I see are dark grey clouds
in the distance moving closer with every hour
so when you ask “was something wrong?”
that I think “you’re damn right there is but we can’t talk about it now.
no, we can’t talk about it now.”
so one last touch and then you’ll go
and we’ll pretend that it meant something so much more
but it was vile, and it was cheap
and you are beautiful but you don’t mean a thing to me
yeah you are beautiful but you don’t mean a thing to me