You left your typewriter
at my apartment
Straight from the Tortured
Poets Department
I think some things
I never say
Like "Who uses
typewriters anyway" But
You're in self-sabotage mode throwing
spikes down on the road
But I've seen this episode and
still loved the show
Who else decodes you
And who's gonna hold you like me
And who's gonna know you if not me
I laughed in your face and said
"You're not Dylan Thomas
I'm not Patti Smith
This ain't the Chelsea Hotel
We're modern idiots"
And who's gonna hold you like me
Nobody
Nobody
Nobody
You smoked then ate seven
bars of chocolate
We declared Charlie Puth
should be a bigger artist
I scratch your head you fall asleep
Like a tattooed golden retriever
But you awaken with dread
pounding nails in your head
But I've read this one
where you come undone
I chose this cyclone with you
And who's gonna hold you like me
Who's gonna hold you
Who's gonna hold you
And who's gonna know you like me
Who's gonna know you
I laughed in your face and said
"You're not Dylan Thomas
I'm not Patti Smith
This ain't the Chelsea Hotel
We're modern idiots"
And who's gonna hold you like me
Who's gonna hold you
Who's gonna hold you
Nobody
Who's gonna hold you
Who's gonna hold you
Nobody
Who's gonna hold you
Gonna love you
Gonna troll you
Nobody
Sometimes I wonder
if you're gonna screw this up with me
But you told Lucy
you'd kill yourself if I ever leave
And I had said that to Jack
about you so I felt seen
Everyone we know understands
why it's meant to be
'Cause we're crazy
So tell me
Who else is gonna know me
At dinner you take my ring off
my middle finger
And put it on the one
People put wedding rings on
and that's the closest I've come
To my heart exploding
Who's gonna hold you
Me
Who's gonna know you
Me
"And you're not Dylan Thomas
I'm not Patti Smith
This ain't the Chelsea Hotel
We're two idiots"
Who's gonna hold you
Who's gonna hold you
Who's gonna hold you
Who's gonna hold you
Who's gonna hold you
Who's gonna hold you
Who's gonna hold you
Who's gonna hold you
Gonna know you
Gonna troll you
You left your typewriter
at my apartment
Straight from the
Tortured Poets Department
Who else decodes you