Strawberry

I like you.
I like you a lot.

You're at the front door
I'm letting you in
Your lips are like strawberries
Burning my skin

And I was amazed
How you turned out
And I was surprised
When I found out

I've got a picnic
Sprawled on the floor
But ants have covered it
And taken back the food
That I've prepared
And now they're feeding all their young
The rest of what I've
[?] I've made

Feels like a heatwave
Is bringing me down
And nothing quite feels right
I'm leaving this town

And I know that it's so general
I know that it's cliché
I know that it's not something you should say