The Last Supper

You’re in my plans, you’re in my schedule
Making it evident that you won’t give up so fast
Count me out, count you down
Blow out the wax
Short lived celebration
Incense of unfairness
Try to be mature about this
Kiss my eyes, catch my tears
Funnel them into what’s healthy
No such thing as good timing
Talk over our taste buds
Goodbye lips and comfortableness
“Console me for another day”
If we stay together it might just be for security
Purposes, purposeful, Is that really worth to you?
Translations and counteractions
How could I be more wrong without being regretful?
Know what I’ve done, what I’m doing
Haven’t told anyone
Love to join in the jolliness
Not sure how to sleep on it
Still reluctant, rest with a pencil for protection
No dictionary, no dexterity
Jump to conclusions, handle with care
Case the joint to steal some air