| Maybe we could break your ankle clean and unsuspiciously
|
| An ER trip, a doctor’s slip and you could share your pills with me
|
| Won’t it feel so good though when we’re lying
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| Side by side can’t move and I’m not trying
|
| Two thousand milligrams each
|
| A hotel by the pharmacy
|
| With drinking straws in toothpaste tubes
|
| Stash them with your toiletries
|
| And I will share my pills with you
|
| Little Michael sleeping in the child safety seat
|
| Lying with the windows rolled up in the August heat
|
| Three thousand milligrams each
|
| Four thousand milligrams
|
| We’re driving down the interstate
|
| You’re feeling great, you scratch your wrist
|
| And we pretend your kids, your husband, all you left does not exist
|
| And in some motel that night we’re lying
|
| I can barely whisper
|
| It’s like dying
|
| Baby do you know what I mean
|
| Well baby, did you hear me?
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| Well baby, you fell asleep
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| I know I’m weak, I won’t deny
|
| We’ll see our trial some day soon
|
| When I know we’re fucked I’ll half the pile and share my pills with you
|
| 'Cos we’ve felt fully in our bodies
|
| And we’ve felt totally alive
|
| So we’re prepared to float above this dirty bed where we both lie
|
| Where we lie, lie, lie
|
| Well we be fine?
|
| Not this time |