Dostoyevsky Gets Mugged Outside A Donut Shop In Jersey Lyrics - Kind Of Like Spitting

Our savior's fallen ill, and he won't get up 

We've cast away our stones, why won't he get up? 

So unawake with you, you let me drive your car 

You let me break your heart and still not want to give up 

So now the only time I get to see you smile 

Is in the darkest rooms with the brownest tiles 

And to hear you laugh is a sweet refrain 

So sick with joy, I'm the perfect boy 

Our savior's fallen ill, but here's a souvenir 

Another saint to pierce against your bedroom wall 

It says you can't give up and that you won't wake up 

Until you close your eyes and lay down