| mostly i sleep it off
|
| it’s easier in the morning
|
| to shrug off the evening’s
|
| drunken pathetic pleas
|
| 'cause the night’s tragic rambling
|
| is the next day’s apologies
|
| so if you can sit tight
|
| 'till the sun hits the blinds
|
| we can settle everything,
|
| oh no.
|
| turning on a dime
|
| i just can’t trust my instincts
|
| one day my heart beats with passion
|
| the next it waxes back
|
| if i seem a little callused
|
| i assure you it’s just a scratch
|
| so if you can hold on
|
| 'till the mood swings are gone
|
| then we might just have a chance,
|
| oh no.
|
| baby, i quit
|
| i just can’t fake it anymore
|
| i’m an indulgent selfish, abusive
|
| disfunctional fuck-up
|
| i needed to be rescued
|
| i’m stranded on myself
|
| and i can’t escape from this island i made
|
| i’m afraid i never will,
|
| oh no |