I've spent enough time caring about you.
This is an old time apology for being me
no matter what I try to do.
You got the worst and I can't believe that you
cut into something deep in me
and made me believe that I could be
something more
than I was before.
Well, I hate being me,
but I believe
this situation calls for something that I lost,
you found in a clipping from a magazine;
you beat it into clay and you pretend to be
surprised.
Cut out my eyes
and call the ambulance.
The ambulance.
I've spent enough time
sleeping with my cigarettes
and drinking whiskey in my bed;
it was a good enough time
half the times I did it.
The evidence has shown
that I mostly like to be alone;
so cut out my eyes
and call the ambulance.
Walking through meadows the picture goes to show
nothing's real when you live inside your head.
And the piece of me I gave to you is dead,
but there are so many things I still need to know.
There's just one thing I need to know before you go:
Was there anything you loved about me?
The star's red light destroys my eyes
and I can't cry anymore without you here.
My knuckles turn black from all the blood in them;
beating on the stucco wall with all my might.
But there's just one thing I need to know before you go:
Was there anything you loved about me?
The wind's getting colder now, but it's okay,
because I have forgotten how to be warm in this place
I chiseled into the hardpacked ground;
where I can be silently away.
You're messing with your hands.
You're staring at the ground.
You're suspicious.
You can't look at me.
You can't say a thing.
You're suspicious.
The funny things you said to me;
filled with lies you let me believe.
You're suspicious.
This hurting in my bones isn't easy to explain,
but I guess that dying feels different every time.
So I don't pay it any mind.
I'm taking back and keeping to myself
whatever I've got left-
it's easy.
Too easy.
You're messing with your hands.
You're staring at the ground.
You're suspicious.
You can't look at me.
You can't say a thing.
You're suspicious.
The funny things you said to me;
filled with lies you let me believe.
You're suspicious.
I'm sorry for nothing
because it's all that I've got.
You drag me by my feet-
I'm bleeding from every pore.
It's raining on me, but I can't feel a thing.
My body betrays. My mind vacates.
Thus am I complete; house holy and empty.
My emptiness builds me a wall.
If you run, count me in;
I'll be behind you.
Walls may fall but I will not be crushed
as long as there's an us.
It's raining on me, but I can't feel a thing.
My body betrays. My mind vacates.
Thus am I complete; house holy and empty.
My emptiness builds me a wall.
I'm sorry for nothing
because it's all that I've got.
You drag me by my feet-
I'm bleeding from every pore.
I'm counting the seams I've snapped inside.
I've no blood to bleed; I only breathe in my sleep.
I say a name both foreign and vain.
I see my face as it fades.
If you run, count me in;
I'll be behind you.
Walls may fall but I will not be crushed
as long as there's an us.
It's raining on me, but I can't feel a thing.
My body betrays. My mind vacates.
Thus am I complete; house holy and empty.
My emptiness builds me a wall.
I'm sorry for nothing
because it's all that I've got.
You drag me by my feet-
I'm bleeding from every pore.
I got the letter that you sent
but I don't know what I should say-
especially since apparently
you don't want a thing from me.
So here you have it,
all the nothing I can give.
But, I must admit
I'm no good at writing emptiness.
It scares me some
how dumb I am.
I don't know if I'm in love,
I just know that I can't be again-
and I don't even know if I regret it.
So glad to hear you're doing great
but I'm sorry I can't say the same-
there's no music in my heart anymore.
That's not to say that you're to blame, though I'd like to.
You're the stain that I adore.
You're my sweet and tender whore.
It scares me some
how dumb I am.
I don't know if I'm in love,
I just know that I can't be again-
and I don't even know if I regret it.
How could I regret it,
someone that I never had?
Memories of feelings
are the only thing I get.
Bubsie, I can't take it anymore-
breathing these poppy-sweet pretend "I love you's."
Kenzie, I dreamt I was standing at your grave
where I could finally see your real face.
I'd never wish you dead
in a 100,000,000 years; instead,
I'll pull paper to pen
to get these vapors from my head.
I know you love me
because you always write it at the end.
Even though I know it's bullshit
I'll just pretend.
It hurts me some
how dumb I am.
I'm loathe to be in love
and I know that I can't be again.
And I don't even know if I regret it.
How can I regret it,
this something that I never had?
These memories of feelings
are the only thing I get.
Bubsie, I can't take you anymore.
Breathing your poppy-sweet pretend "I love you's."
Kenzie, I dreamt I was standing at your grave
I'm pretty sure I'm obsessing
because every hour I'm checking
my phone to see if you care.
If you're there,
my stomach does back flips on itself,
I jump around giddy like a girl
who just held her first boy's hand.
And I land face flat and churning inside,
brow-furled and misty-eyed,
sick like I'm on the kick
if you're not there.
And I am beat up and rusty inside,
my head is about to unwind,
you're just what I need-
you're the best type of disease.
If anybody says otherwise
I'll blacken their eyes,
put out their lights.
If anybody says anything that is of of line
I'll make them wish they'd died
before they ever met me.
I love you so much that I'm sorry
I did not know you sooner
that I could have loved you always.
And I hate you away without me
but that's life- it's long and rotten-
but I think you'll make it better.
I know a mouthful of words could not convey
the feelings streaming tears down my face
when I think of you.
You're telling me too much, you're telling me too much
your words are like vipers that sting my desires
leaving them in flames.
I don't know if I can take
any more of this heartbreaking
love I have for you.
To tell you the truth
I'll always tell you the truth.
If anybody says otherwise
I'll blacken their eyes,
put out their lights.
If anybody says anything that is of of line
I'll make them wish they'd died
before they ever met me.
How did you get me
so wound up?
Popping like a spring
filling my cup
with so many feelings,
loving and ghostly,
heart held in my hand,
half in my head.
You know that I'm ready
to take a fall,
break off at the knees,
crawling and bawling.
Lay at your feet,
just like a dog,
but if you kick me
I'll walk away with your love.
If anybody says otherwise
I'll blacken their eyes,
put out their lights.
If anybody says anything that is of of line
I'll make them wish they'd died
before they ever met me.