Rolled up sleeves and torn up jeans, bracing for a joke
A stilted cadence so thought out, the jilted little f*ck
Walking slow in staggered steps, think swagger touches tongues
Don't you think it's all worn out, sometimes you gotta run
Slipping by your cadence misses every cue
Broken hearted for a living under vows that aren't true
Expectant grace learned by way of you
Stealing every kiss
Every chance at some small charm is a major f*cking miss
Black and blue from what I love, a small defense of nature
A flare rolls through the sky, you believe it's something special
There are no dreams, the turbid brook is filled with spit and lead
There are no dreams, the turbid brook is filled with spit and lead
There are no dreams, the turbid brook is filled with spit and lead
There are no dreams, the turbid brook is filled with spit and lead
Spit and lead
Spit and lead
Spit and lead
The eldritch faire that I demand we eat here every evening
Tastes more and more like what I grew up hating
The feeling now of what I'm lacking breaks in through the bulkhead