| Glad it’s raining so I don’t have to go outside
|
| And pretend I’m happy just to be alive
|
| You know I hate dying. |
| I’ve only tried
|
| So I cross my fingers and count to five
|
| I call it weed. |
| You call it function
|
| I hate these drugs but you love watching
|
| Your reverie on display
|
| You leave yourself and float away
|
| And float away
|
| My life don’t feel like mine these days I find these days
|
| Stale rye, once an apples eye. |
| I’m losing sight I’m
|
| Lost in my head
|
| Haven’t felt this since
|
| Listening to the 1975 while getting high
|
| In somebody’s basement party
|
| My life don’t feel like mine these days I find these days
|
| Don’t pay no mind to my alarms
|
| I’m down a fight, but up in arms
|
| You’re so perfect until I need you
|
| You might’ve been there, but I couldn’t see you
|
| My life don’t feel like mine these days I find these days
|
| Stale rye, once an apples eye.
|
| I’m losing sight I’m
|
| Don’t let me hang out on the wire
|
| Sinking fast. |
| I’m sinking further
|
| Treading water’s getting harder
|
| Don’t let me fall another martyr
|
| Don’t let me hang out on the wire
|
| Sinking fast. |
| I’m sinking further
|
| Treading water’s getting harder
|
| Don’t let me fall another martyr |