Saliva.

And I'm sorry about you and me.
And I'm sorry about us.
I try to give it my best,
but to what end? Saliva.
You may no think so at first,
but I'm your designated driver.
But this roadside is not yours or mine.
And it's about time that I stop.
I didn't quite make it, I had to forsake it.
And as I sit on the train,
I can taste him in my saliva.

I'm finding out that you can't mess around with saliva.
And I drive a lot, 'cause I can't stop thinking about it.

Wet your dried out lips with saliva.
What's more strange than this? Your saliva.
If I did not miss your saliva,
if my lips could kiss your saliva still.