Purple, Orange, Silver

The taste of it was not what I expected
Like the neutral gray in your lover's eyes
There is safety but there is pain
Your manuscript is bleeding in the rain
I got a dirty finger
I've been a sterile friend
I swear my levity is on the mend

Pray against the warmth in the chimney
Pray for the frailty in my hands
Pray against the fire in her pocket
If that makes you feel more like a man

I got the worst of it when we were kids
You got too high and the cops crashed in
And took my high school lover out by accident
She was no Holy Virgin but she wasn't a sinner

I lost a friend without warning
You're faking sleep through your pinpoint eyes
Pretend there is no fire in my punches
I guess that makes you feel more like a man

It doesn't remind me
It doesn't remind me of you
It doesn't remind me of you at all

You got better
I got better
Then you got better
Then I got better than you