Lines

Words won’t be the weapons that I use on you
 I have wired them before and I won’t supply the fuse
 The phone won’t be the line I use to get ahold of you
 I have dialed it before and I couldn’t get through
 Letters I may write won’t ever get to you
 But, they’re all a bunch of wrecking balls, so what’s the use?
 The politics of what I say are meaningless
 A fool believes a politician anyway
 No, and I don’t want to fight or argue anymore
 I want to be loved
 No, and I don’t want to talk about it anymore
 I want to be loved
 I could try to pass the word through someone else
 But, they’d probably try to paraphrase and mess it all to hell
 Written words and messaged birds won’t get my point across
 I send out all my lines, but they come back to me
 Words won’t be the weapons that I use on you
 I have wired them before and I won’t light the fuse.