Whistle song

There is something in her eyes
That’s making me scared
It’s clinging to my shirt now
Like static in her hair
And something here is wrong
I heard it when she spoke
Her dust flows through my veins
And I’m yesterday’s joke
And it seems impossible to meet her simple needs
She breaths invincible and it’s giving me the creeps
She is still the wild one here, the incendiary soul
She is in flame and I am cold
God, I’m getting old
She is talking through a yawn and the radio is on
I listen through the thin walls
And someone is whisteling along
There is something in the air
Squeezing out sparks
The striplight flickers and then dies
And leaves us in the dark
And it seems impossible to make the ending speak
She breaths invincible and it’s giving me the creeps
She is still the wild one here, the incendiary soul
She is in flame and I am cold
God, I’m getting old
God, it’s getting cold
And I tried to make you a believer
But you’re not a receiver