Can you please put your gun up 
I don't think it's necessary right now
I want to hold you close  
Then a straight razor blade to my thigh

Anxiety pills has me all dizzy
I can't tell who I am anymore
I'm so worried about you that 
I'm a stressed-out mess

These tears crash on concrete like stones
But I think that's the best metaphor 
I've made about you love
So could I undress this conversation like that night in November?