歌词

It's dreary my dear-y
I've run out of steam
Pupils and cuticles
I don't feel like me
Clandestine kisses
And scars left unseen
Say the wrong words
And i'll cry at your feet (And i'll vomit at your feet)

Marching from work
To the place where i sleep
I would call it home
But i don't feel like me
Lining my spine
With acrylic paint trees
I don't feel like art (I fucking hate art)
But you could convince me (I fucking hate art)

There's blood on my hands
Yes i killed a man
His name was adam (Took him to the beach)
Now she goes by em' (And buried him in sand)
I sing about murder
Cus i feel good when
I give all my words
A nice little edge

If i make you rewind
And listen again
At least there is someone
Who heard what i said
I use shock humor
To mask thoughts in my head
Cus if i didn't (Wish this tranny was dead)
This tranny would be dead (Wish this tranny was dead)

Halfhearted haphazard
A phrase that means nothing (A phrase that means everything)
I threw words together
To call this song something (To call this song anything)
The irony is
I could've seen this shit coming
I've got so much to say
But instead i'm just suffering

I'm feeling so naked
There's clothes on the floor
I'm wearing two hoodies
Wish i could wear more
I'm one with the fabric
A fleece covered whore
My skin feels so fleeting (I'm so fucking warm)
I'm dripping remorse (I'm so fucking warm)

Writer(s): Em Crows

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