Fix - Colony 5

Falling in love, like in a plastic bag

Suffocating, lungs deprived of air

Have to back off, I have to take care

Not prone to romance, not Byron’s heir

Here is my heart -- take it and explain (how it works)

It has stopped my soul from love

Too many times before (too many quirks)

Rumours of hollow shells

Whispers in my head

Dismal affairs, like infected scars

Unable to mend, unwilling to open up

Another afternoon in Wayne’s coffee shop

Not trying to love you, but trying to stop