Old Love - Modern Love = Confusion

She glides like she’s on the catwalk
She’s an intellect, a hand full of chalk
In her mind, she’s the saviour of mankind
Old love is a million miles behind
Her face is orange, her hair peroxide
Her skin, to others, she doesn’t hide
I’m in the shackles of her power
She’s the intruder in the dust
I don’t know what she is speaking of
She calls it modern love
But I want old love
I want old love
I want old love

She’s a tragic creature, she’s an insomniac
She’s hands out free tickets for piggybacks
Yeah her fashion is expensive
She receives, she does not give
She’s ice, she’s fire, she’s a caterpillar
An author of books on serial killers
She says her heart is a morgue
And I am the defining corpse
I don’t know what she is speaking of
She calls it modern love
But I want old love
I want old love
I want old love

She’s a fame conception, she’s an acclaimed drunk
She keeps me locked up inside of a trunk
She’s a magnet with ruptured precision
An interpretation of some decisions
She’s got me under her instructions
She isn’t a connoisseur of introductions
She knows the world owes her nothing
And she doesn’t owe it anything
I don’t know what she is speaking of
She calls it modern love
But I want old love
I want old love
I want old love

I am Adam and she is Eve
I know that is hard to believe
Her mind plugged to a satellite
Her paranoia keeps her up at night
Inside the Gates of Tranquillity
She puts a question to me
 ‘Has another been in our crib?’
I said, ‘Honey! Count my ribs!’
She don’t know what I’m speaking of
I call it old love
But she wants modern love
She wants modern love
She wants modern love
She wants modern love