Skank love, duh. What you expect? Daisies and sonnets? Nah, just cigarettes and neglect. You liked it rough around the edges, so I cut my hands on you. Now you’re surprised I’m bleeding? Girl, what else is new?
We kiss like crash test dummies, no airbags deployed. Love in a trailer park, strung out and paranoid. You call me baby, but your phone got three other names. I call you mine — same difference in these neon flames. skank love duh
I’ll interpret it as a short, gritty, spoken-word / poetic piece about a cynical, messy kind of love. Skank love, duh