Curable Disease - Blake Mills

Go on and taste your dreams

Leave me with the bill

and miss me half as much as you say you will

You can make me believe you’d need me still

Love may be a curable disease

Those dreams, they are like pills

They may dangle you like a worm out on a line,

or make you the household name just like they have advertised

Does it concern you now, does it even cross your mind?

That «love» could be a misquotation

Your dreams, they are not mine

And in the light of day, what have you got?

Are you for sale or are you bought?

Is there a best «if used by» date written on the top?

I don’t believe that it’s wrong to have heard love and dared the cost

but love can be a mistranslation and lines can be crossed

If you can taste your dreams and leave me with the bill

and miss me half as much as you say you will

You can make me believe that you need me still

Your dreams have been a false I.D.

that made you look like someone else

and the writing on the wall looked just like water on the windowsill

It said love can be a curable disease