tear your wings off at the spine and tape them to the back of mine
i can fly higher when i'm tired
my 2 hands are scorched from holding this torch
mind feels like neon all glowing and bent up
you look good on my back like a shark fin
rectify desensitized
'tis the season to drink poison
tralala was a badhead girl
your mind's gone greasy it slides right off me
and all the jaded stars spit black cigars
no truce for you
a spec of something that i knew
yes i read what you did and i see what you did |