| You must be crazy
|
| Or could it be true that your memory’s been so unkind
|
| So tired and lazy
|
| You never could search for the things that you wanted to find
|
| Bound by a fear of a knife in your back
|
| The look on your face says your starting to crack
|
| You’re putting it down to a dent in your pride
|
| But the misery’s sticking to you like a thorn in your side
|
| Can’t face the demons
|
| Cos there’s not a demon would want to be snared in your eyes
|
| So you say your leaving
|
| And you pack up your bags and you paint on a whole new disguise
|
| Out of the door like a fox on the hunt
|
| There’s fire in your eyes someone’s gonna get burnt
|
| You’re looking for somewhere to lay down and hide
|
| Cos the misery’s sticking to you like a thorn in your side
|
| Bound by a fear of a knife in your back
|
| The look on your face says your starting to crack
|
| You’re putting it down to a dent in your pride
|
| But the misery’s sticking to you, yeah yeah yeah
|
| Out of the door like a fox on the hunt
|
| There’s fire in your eyes someone’s gonna get burnt
|
| You’re looking for somewhere to lay down and hide
|
| Cos the misery’s sticking to you like a thorn in your side
|
| You burn bridges
|
| By doing it all for the sake of a little respect
|
| You cut the stitches
|
| By giving it all to the heart of a little black egg
|
| Bound to the cross by the nails in your hand
|
| Your looking for someone you might understand
|
| Carrying on like your spirit has died
|
| Cos the misery’s sticking to you like a thorn in your side |