Backdrifts. (Honeymoon is Over.)

we're rotten fruit, we're damaged goods
what the hell, we got nothing more to lose
one gust and we will probably crumble
we’re backdrifting

this far but no further
I'm hanging off a branch
I'm teetering on the brink of honey sweet, so fall asleep
I'm backsliding

you fell into our arms
you fell into our arms
we tried but there was nothing we could do
nothing we could do

all evidence has been buried
all tapes have been erased
but your footsteps give you away
so you’re backtracking

you fell into our arms
you fell into our arms
we tried but there was nothing we could do
nothing we could do

you fell into our
you fell into our

we're rotten fruit, we're damaged goods
what the hell, we’ve got nothing more to lose
one gust and we will probably crumble
we’re backdrifters