|
I could use a lie or two |
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I'll keep them for me |
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Won't use them on you |
|
Stretched here on my back |
|
Like a turtle rehearsing suicide |
|
On my knees for |
|
Prayers, songs, accusations, whatever |
|
Go out and invent |
|
Yourselves new ones |
|
That's the way it's written here |
|
That's the way |
|
That's the way it's written here |
|
On this blankets |
|
Between ashes and lost hair |
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Wheels, powder, citylights, whatever |
|
I leave it on the nightshade |
|
Of my window |
|
While it goes on |
|
It goes: "shouting, choking, laughing", whatever |
|
While I lay here in this body |
|
Only waiting for some sleep |
|
That's the way it's written here |
|
That's the way |
|
That's the way it's written here |
|
On these blankets |
|
Between ashes and lost hair |
