Hey, You.
Yes, You.
Why are You just standing there?
Green eyes, Black boots,
And that messy brown hair.
Looking at me without a care.
Soft lips, Colorful belt,
Hands on hips. Revengful smirk.
Your hands. Delicate.
Fingernails worn away.
With a lighter in your grasp.
Gasoline in the other.
Around your neck, an
Undercover Lover.

Hey, Girl.
Bad Girl.
Good Lover.
Fingers clutch his collar.
Black hair, Blue eyes.
Wistful tongue controls his surprise.
Six inche heels, nails to match.
Stroke his shadowy face.
Stab another in the back.
With arsenic in your grasp.
And his hand in the other.
You're his Undercover Lover.

Hey, You.
Your Girl too.
Are you really just gonna stand there?
And watch me burn?

Smoke curls up, chokes around my neck.
Tears can't enstinguish, the flames.
Watery eyes, Melted converse.
And blond locks fried and ash.
Cracked lips, Throat filled with posison.
Fingers bloodied down.
With a note in my hand.
My heart in the other.
And out that door.
My Undercover Lover.