Sweep the dirt under your rug, you're on your drug. And then it hits me. It's paregoric in my head, I'm all doped-up. And just a baby. . Doing just fine.
Damned, if I do and damned, if I don't. I told you I loved you, I wish that I hadn't. You don't seem the same. I guess I know you too well. I knew I was falling, but I didn't know how low I'd fell.
That's what you do, yeah. That's what you do. That's what you do, yeah. . (You make me wanna) What can I say? What can I do?. I live my life for loving you.
I like saying yes and watching you take. I don't need to sleep or eat. I smoke a thousand cigarettes. These days are so nurturing. When you're gone I'll eat and sleep away.
I wanna feel your heart and soul inside of me,. Inside of me, inside of me, inside of me. I wanna feel your heart and soul inside of me,. Inside of me, inside of me, inside of me.
When there's someone doubting everything you do. It keeps you alive unless someone's shaking. Their head at everything you do, it keeps you true. Never learned to feel, I must take it out on you.
I've given up on giving up. It's not all as it seems. I missed some of the words. But that is always happening. . None of this can be your fault. No need for guilt here not at all.
Trailing on next to sick. Only broken magic sticks. Evil pins never snare. Figured out how to get nowhere. Flying lead-filled flapping gills. Phantom God in frozen time.
My head so low. The way I think could scrape the ground. I will give them all control. I will crumble all around. . There's no need to say a word. As logic burns right through my head.
I like saying yes and watching you take. I don't need to sleep or eat. I smoke a thousand cigarettes. . These days are so nurturing. When you're gone I'll eat and sleep away my days again.
Were not here to crawl away. Or find blame from wasted time. Straight or high is not wasted time. Feeling true in poor Paranoiaville. . Excuses are so easy.
You make your words so nice. I'm waiting you to name a price. One will walk along. Praying as you sing your song. Way and winters upon the season. You baby to me so right, would it be out of reason?.
Post-hardcore, pre-apocalyptic. Science-fiction, drone-loving. Renaissance Man. . Oh, what is true? What is real?. No bullshit, brother. Pot-smoking, Renaissance Man.
Heart-broken and attractive. A sad, sloppy mess. Lookin' for approval. And easily impressed. . Beware they say, but why would I listen?. I need to know what I've been missin'.