Ripe

I know we don't see eye to eye, that don't stop the fact you're the apple of mine

Let's sit here, waste away the time, but I won't call you mine

Lips like cherries, they're kerosene, too bitter to taste, we're not ready

Pricked my finger the blood was candy. You're sour first and then you're

Who do you think you are

I'll try to apologize

There's a hint of green that's in your eyes

It makes it hard for some peace of mind

Both you and I know baby it's not worth it this time

I'll bite my tongue for something ripe, it's overrated and it's over-disguised

"Tu es la pomme de mes yeux", you sigh, God! Mediocrity is my tуре

Don't know where I should draw the line, I'm a fiend for the in-between

I'll call you my Persephone, it's dark and cold and then it's spring

Who do you think you are

I'll try to apologize

There's a hint of green that's in your eyes

It makes it hard for some peace of mind

Both you and I know baby it's not worth it this time