Alors on Danse

Is it fucked up that listening to that one 3oh!3 song gives me the blues? I'm pretty sure that's illegal somewhere. Copped out of my scene points. Next thing I know, I'll be listening to Lifehouse. No disrespect.
It's a funny thing, love. I've never been speechless, yet my words are stuck inside my sunken chest only coming out as sullen breaths and blissful whispers. I can't write anymore, but I want to. (Oh, the irony). My hands shake and my heart is racing but my mind is blank. I'm stuck in some sort of limbo between heartache and love and writer's block. Drowning in shallow water. I want to scream out your name, but I don't want anyone to hear me. Oh, sweet irony. Too bad I taste more sour when I'm 4,000 miles away. Fuck everything, I can't make sense. I'm struck like a clock and I'm left ringing on your ears after midnight. Maybe you'll find that ringing on your fingers, at some point. (engaged). locked. loaded. I just want you here, but I pulled your absence near so I could at least feel the emptiness left behind. Alas, I'm alone, but I know that at one point there was something here, and I guess that's what counts. These tubes lead me to you, but sometimes all we need is that touch I can't provide, and that's what's killing me. Give me a lobotomy so my mind won't kill me. My ribs are tearing apart. My heart's breaking out of its cage, and it's going after you. I'm locked in the empty hallway of an emotional brothel. Friends aren't friends and lovers are absent. This is the love song of this cabaret, where fuck buddies are the players for and love is the game. (We lost). They're getting locked and loaded. Their screeching moans and touches tend more to their souls than to their wounds. We're still naked. We're still under the rain. They drink crocodile tears to the point of inebriation. She said it's ok not to care sometimes.

And I can't understand why.