Playing Possum for a Peek Owen (USA)

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I'm made up of instincts
None of which are too keen
But I get by with these high cheekbones
Little faith in people or a higher being

And I'm a man with desires
And If I told you any different I'd be a liar
As hard as I've tried
I've found I can't deny myself of those
Things that I want

As last night turns into this morning –
Buried in your blankets, left for dead
My heart beating in my head –
I lie still, pretending I'm asleep

And I watch you put your clothes on for me
The local pharmacist and his wife
And I'm convinced after your performance
That this world is too big for us
And our stupid instincts, and our stupid desires