Friction

six night stand, i cheated on myself again
 but you're no consolation here
 just friction, it's the dictionary definition
 of truly not in love; nowhere near
 like a blind man who sits, dress watch draped around his wrist
 stopped at half past six, he doesn't need to get it fixed
 he's just, keeping up appearances, woah
 six months in i'm feeling like myself again;
 confused and bored and very much alone
 this friction that we make is hard to take
 i try to fake it but these eyes are dry as a bone
 beneath the shade of a tree, my guilty conscience gets me
 not for what i have but for what i've not
 but why do we applaud, the viscous and the flawed
 and those who only keep what they have caught
 it just rubs me the wrong way
 baby! there's too much friction, between you and me (it's all rub rub rub)
 baby! there's too much friction here, you know
 between you and me... it's over
 a lone stick or a stone could surely break some bones
 but when coupled and pressed, used with finesse
 they could spark a fire that grows, well
 you just rub me the wrong way
 you just rub me the wrong way, you just rub me
 between you and me... it's over