Saturn is for Punks

I respect you, but I also can’t stand you

Do you want me to love you, or salute you like an army general?

You threaten me with other women

Like there aren’t other people that I could envision

I say less to spare your feelings, but you view mine as acts of treason

I can’t keep sitting here all stuffed inside this itchy sweater

I still can’t tell if I care for you, or simply fear you

Something’s gotta give

The inner child’s gotta live