| So I’ll just feed the moon
|
| With nothing more than a crooked spoon
|
| It’s possible when you’re messed up too soon
|
| So I’ll just feed the moon
|
| With nothing more than a crooked spoon
|
| It’s possible when you’re messed up too soon
|
| You’ll keep a close eye
|
| On the ever passing time
|
| Fake a left turn towards the air
|
| A brick wall through the bend
|
| Things you don’t care to know
|
| A burst of colour, an open window
|
| Sharp pain, a smiling face
|
| You’re nothing more than empty space
|
| So I’ll just feed the moon
|
| With nothing more than a crooked spoon
|
| It’s possible, when you’re messed up too soon
|
| So I’ll just feed the moon
|
| With nothing more than a crooked spoon
|
| It’s possible, when you’re messed up too soon
|
| The next time I arrive
|
| I hope I feel more alive
|
| A lack of worries, a lack of drive
|
| It’s all spun around in my mind
|
| Is this wrong, is this right?
|
| I won’t know until next time
|
| I guess I’ll just live my life
|
| As another body in line
|
| So I’ll just feed the moon
|
| With nothing more than a crooked spoon
|
| It’s possible, when you’re messed up too soon
|
| So I’ll just feed the moon
|
| With nothing more than a crooked spoon
|
| It’s possible, when you’re messed up too soon
|
| I am just a girl — I am just a boy
|
| My hair is long — My hair is long
|
| My eyes are green — My eyes are blue
|
| I still feel pain — And I still feel pain
|
| I didn’t cry last night
|
| I didn’t cry last night
|
| I didn’t cry last night
|
| But I am dead inside, dead inside |