Armored Saint

Damage to my head, peace stays in the bed
Making love the only thing we can do
Otherwise in our lives, all we do is fight
Never stop enough to call a truce
The only time that you find satisfaction is in our physical play
You love me in the course of the evening but so bitter in the day
Think you'd wipe the smudge, but just carry on the grudge
Nothing gets forgiven from you
Soon I'll lose the cure, and you'll thirst so much more
Somebody fresh I wonder who
Now I think it's time for me to walk straight out the door
And leave you here