Say these hands they don’t, look like my own
I’ve never seen them lie, all alone
He says I know his mind, all too well
He’s got one foot in heaven, one hand in hell

His lungs they ache, for a breath of fresh air
But he’s burning them up, yea he’s stripping them bare
And every Friday night, when we’re sitting playing truth or dare
Oh he’s burning me up yea; he’s stripping me bare

His lungs they ache for fresh air, but his cold weather toxic heart,
I know it just don’t care
His love is something real rare; he’s got a sneaky kind of selfish
I know, it never treats me fair

Oh oh, oh oh oh , oh oh oh
Oh oh oh

Says he’s a tortured soul, well my soul, he tortured and stole,
Away, how’d we get so far away, from our perfect start?
He said he’d never hurt my heart, like this
What fine print did I miss?

Cause I let him paint his red walls, and smoke his cigarettes
I let him win our petty brawls, over philosophical bets
But he still goes on

His lungs they ache for fresh air, but his cold weather toxic heart,
I know it just don’t care
His love is something real rare; he’s got a sneaky kind of selfish
I know, it never treats me fair

Oh oh, oh oh oh , oh oh oh
Oh oh oh

His lungs they ache, for a breath of fresh air
But he’s burning them up, yea he’s stripping them bare
And every Friday night, when we’re sitting playing truth or dare
He’s burning me up yea; he’s stripping me bare