| The floodgates opened and there was a river
|
| Flowing through me with a dull precision
|
| It left me feeling nauseous
|
| And handcuffed by a lack of ambition
|
| Drugs and daytime television
|
| Building like light through a prison
|
| A thousand individual parts I couldn’t process
|
| And I was lying in the backseat
|
| I was trying to find
|
| New words for the same repeating lines
|
| And after the smoke cleared
|
| Opened my eyes and I was still here
|
| I was certain I was a goner
|
| It should’ve been me on the table
|
| With the wires and the cables
|
| I’ll do anything you want if you stay here
|
| Just a little while longer
|
| And I was lying in the backseat
|
| I was trying to find
|
| New words for the same repeating lines
|
| And I was lying through my teeth
|
| Always saying it would be alright
|
| I’m still feeling your fingers on my spine
|
| And then the floodgates closed
|
| And I was back in my darkened home
|
| Feeling more depleted than I ever have
|
| But instead of crying, whenever I think of dying
|
| It only makes me laugh
|
| And how can I explain it to you
|
| When I don’t understand it myself?
|
| And I was lying in the backseat
|
| I was trying to find
|
| New words for the same repeating lines
|
| And I was lying through my teeth
|
| Always saying it would be alright
|
| I’m still feeling your fingers on my spine |