What goes on.

What goes on.

Your hands are at my feet, trying to compete
with my feelings not to stay,
But you never knew what to say.
And now, when timing's vital,
I've grown accustomed to your recital.
And I don't believe your lies,
I'm not answering your questioning whys.
So as the sunset becomes sunrise,
I find time to say my goodbyes.

I'm feeling dizzy, with spots before my eyes,
Love burnt me and left my body torn and bruised,
I'm fed up of sitting unused,
Maybe you're fed up, but
it's not like I'm enthused...

But I know what goes on,
Behind those closed doors,
And I recognise the sounds you make,
When you're pulsating on the floor.
I know which girl you'd rather explore,
I chose to ignore it, but not anymore.

I know what goes on,
And I know the shoulder I wept upon,
And it was only a "shoulder" in the figurative sense...
The impacts far too intense
For me to handle,
So I retreat, knowing this story's far from complete.