Sandboxing - Our Union Is a Match Waiting to Strike

Call it quits
Call out mistress, kids in sight
Will his eyes roll while mine wander asking graves
If this is the son that I’ve made?
Made
While in prayer my hands are to myself
As if any of that would help
Since I wouldn’t even dream of it
But I have napkins with violet outlines of your lips,
Insist an absence of attention deserves no moral exemption unless you
Condemn every motion that we’ve gone thru
Slipping tongues may say its untrue
Despite myself I never quite withdrew
Despite myself I never quite withdrew
Calling it over
Calling me over
I can't say no
Calling it over
Calling me over
I can't say no
I’m afraid our union is a matching to strike
Apparently, I cannot be left alone
Picturesque, but not without
Guilt or consequence, neither mine nor yours
Pictures on the darkroom floor unless you
Condemn every motion that we’ve gone through
Slipping tongues may say its untrue
Despite myself I never quite withdrew
Despite myself I never quite withdrew
Calling it over
Calling me over
I can't say no
Calling it over
Calling me over
I can't say no
Calling it over
Calling me over
Calling it over
Calling me over
Calling it over
Calling me over
Calling it over
Calling me over
Calling it over
Calling me over
I can't say no
Calling it over
Calling me over
I can't say no
Calling it over
Calling me over
I can't say no
Calling it over
Calling me over
I can't say no

Written by:
Hank Byerly, Jimmy Conroy

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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