Back Door Moon

You wear that ring like a storm.

I bite my lip, play it cool.

Your name hits my phone and I’m gone.

One look and I bend the rules.

We meet where the thrift shop glows.

Past the back door, past the view.

You say, “Just one more minute.”

I say, “I’m already through.”

Say it soft, say it low.

Keep it close, keep it close.

Every vow at the door.

Still I want you more.

Bad love, good taste.

We keep crossing the line.

Bad love, good taste.

I know you’re not mine.

Bad love, good taste.

Still I reach for your hand.

Bad love, good taste.

Tell me who understands.

Your trace on my collar still burns.

Mine on your wrist by dawn.

We laugh like this never counts.

Then the whole house is gone.

I saw your face in the rain-streaked glass.

You looked away, then back.

Like we both knew the price.

But we never called it that.

Say it soft, say it low.

Keep it close, keep it close.

Every vow at the door.

Still I want you more.

Bad love, good taste.

We keep crossing the line.

Bad love, good taste.

I know you’re not mine.

Bad love, good taste.

Still I reach for your hand.

Bad love, good taste.

Tell me who understands.

If they ask, we were nothing.

Just a glance and a spark.

But your touch leaves a map on me.

And it follows me home in the dark.

Bad love, good taste.

We keep crossing the line.

Bad love, good taste.

I know you’re not mine.

Bad love, good taste.

Still I reach for your hand.

Bad love, good taste.

Tell me who understands.