| Writing sleeper hits for all these weeping dipshits
|
| Turning tricks for cheap kicks where I can
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| I turn ‘em with my whole damn body
|
| I turn ‘em with my whole damn body
|
| She told her friends she’d got with me, she lied it drunkenly
|
| I’m only angry 'cause I wish she had
|
| I wish it with my whole damn body
|
| I wish it with my whole damn body
|
| Fifty-thousand cotton wool balls
|
| Line your whole bedroom floor
|
| Soaked in black tears from your mascara
|
| Resemble piles of coal
|
| And we’ll stack them up high and lie by fireside
|
| To the morning from the night
|
| Led on an ex-boyfriend's corpse, I slit from gullet to balls
|
| And splayed his face to the floor
|
| She crows
|
| «You want my happiness, but on your terms»
|
| And I know
|
| You’re just a foot up out of the doldrums
|
| All the finger-sucking, singer-fucking girls
|
| Are making me wake up in these cold sweats
|
| I sweat it from my whole damn body
|
| I sweat it from my whole damn body
|
| Swapping drinks tickets for all these indiscreet snippets
|
| Of how it feels to truly be adored
|
| I feel it in my whole damn body
|
| I feel it in my whole damn body
|
| Blue blood, red carpet burns
|
| In the white of your home county’s skin
|
| Daddy’s a patriot, enjoyed this summer a lot
|
| But hide your jubilee knees
|
| Me, half-hard from while I dreamt
|
| Pressed in the corner of your bed, recollecting what we did
|
| Taxi cab to Travelodge, he drops me off outside the lobby
|
| Lowers his wink like guillotine
|
| She crows
|
| «You want my happiness, but on your terms»
|
| And I know
|
| You are just a foot up out of the doldrums
|
| Invite in for coffee blends and night ends
|
| We get head like Nescafé Gold blend
|
| Big tip for the pretty girl waiting the IHOP
|
| These blank napkins, unwritten suicide notes
|
| It’s dark inside these eyelids
|
| Blacker than the ink squid |