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Please don't describe the way it feels to you |
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The way it feels |
|
In other words |
|
In other words |
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The human race it wishes to relate |
|
Its thoughts and rhymes |
|
To other worlds |
|
In other words |
|
Some things we push away, the thoughts of you |
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Without me |
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They seem to stay |
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And play with me |
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And when I listen to someone else |
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It makes me think |
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That I can kill myself |
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And somehow save myself |
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I'll catch you next time that I fall |
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If you promise that you'll call again |
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I'll call you back again |
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There comes a time when the lights are on |
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And no one's home |
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Because you left |
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You left them on |
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It feels good to know that someone's out of mind |
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Out of time |
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Only to think of you |
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And when I listen to someone else |
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It makes me feel like I should kill myself |
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And maybe save myself |
|
And when I listen to myself |
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I think that everyone else should kill themselves |
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And maybe, save themselves |
|
Please don't describe the way it feels to you |
|
The way it feels |
|
In other words |
|
In other words |
|
The human race it wishes to relate |
|
Its thoughts and rhymes |
|
To other worlds |
|
In other words |
|
Some things we push away, the thoughts of you |
|
Without me |
|
They seem to stay |
|
And play with me |
|
And when I listen to someone else |
|
It makes me think |
|
That I can kill myself |
|
And somehow save myself |
