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Kind Of Like Spitting
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In The Red
There's so much that i don't understand So i lay awake and analyze the night I have popped every pock, picked at every scab. The levels aren't hot enough It sounds so cramped and tight Faster than a bullet from the chamber From hotel beds 'I love you' said to strangers, No matter what it meant, no matter what's implied, I keep wasting all my time finding signals, riding rhymes, Not one voice goes unaffected
Crumbling under all the weight of critics, judges, mentors, Falling off the cart Some sunlit, show-less, hapless town, In the winter, the van is quiet...
And we're crowded The pen is broken I'm bleeding on the napkin, Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com All of these thoughts are inconsequential so it's over, It's all over, Hoped the Greyhound would roll over Down into the drink and the cops would block the streets for miles
Crumbling under all the weight of critics, judges, mentors, Falling off the cart some sunlit, show-less, hapless town The spell I'm under blankets ear plugs Swelled up breath getting quicker so, I dog-ear pages to remember where i left off.
I hope we grown up soon Before my mind goes out of tune, I hope we grow up soon, Before out lights go out
In the winter the van is quiet...
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