P.S. Eliot - Sore Subject lyrics

Like a helpless captive, a distraught midwife
Like a Libran husband and a Capricorn wife
I turn to wine and whiskey
And these cryptic songs
Maybe I'm passive aggressive or
Maybe I'm wrong

But don't go yet - old lipstick
Old cassettes
Clutter the carpet where my futile head rests
And I'd explain it
But I've long-since dismissed
The thought of vitality
You'll get nothing out of me
But don't go yet
And like a sore subject, objective pursuit
Like a fearful me or an asinine you
And we avoid eye contact as
I'm just dragged along
Maybe I should just grow up
Or maybe I'm wrong

As soon as my eyes avert
More skin of alabaster
You don't warn me before
You just devastate me after
And like a dangling noose or
Like an endless sea
We both know how to love and I
Think you owe more to me