You sit back on the knife as I lean into the punch
Aren't we a bunch
I wake up every morning the feeling of being ashamed
I don't want my name
I'll spend July feeling my strings being pulled
Laying down as the train speeds at me like a bull
To you
I walk up twenty first street
Haven't had enough to eat I guess I'm shit at being alone
I keep looking over my shoulder
Trying to see if I've got older but I've turned myself around
You spend July with your
Fingers curled
Twisting out to make me likeable
To you
To you
To you
To you