Low Light

The lights are low and you to hide it. Your fingers find the places words don't go. We don't talk about what happens after. Some things are better left unknown. Andrew Maniac on the beats. You don't ask me where I've been, and I Don't need know your name. Mm. The bass is doing all the talking and we're Just listening to the same. Eee. In the low light, we can be whatever this Is supposed to be. Your hand stays on my waist too long, And I don't mind it staying there at all. Mm. You move like you've already decided Not to rush whatever this becomes. The cigarette you never lit sits between your Fingers like a question mark. In the low light. In the low Light. In The low light, we can be.