| You don't actually care | |
| Love for you is no beginning | |
| You're not really there | |
| Hallucination | |
| I thought you were listening | |
| Hallucination | |
| I thought you were listening | |
| Hallucination | |
| I understand you think you're above it | |
| The adolescent sense of the sky | |
| The feeling of billowing heartbeats | |
| The fingertips run through your hair | |
| They run through your hair | |
| Hallucination | |
| Hallucination | |
| Oh you think you're so special | |
| That there's no law meant for you | |
| You come and go like the goddess you are | |
| We're mere mortals below | |
| Fingertips run through your hair | |
| We are mere mortals below | |
| Are meant to be peons | |
| Are meant to be servants | |
| Are meant to be dismissible objects | |
| One fucks with | |
| One fucks with | |
| Poor pitiful creature | |
| The winner in heartbreak | |
| The winner in caring | |
| The winner in every miniscule method of wearing | |
| Your heart on your sleeve | |
| A red star of idiocy | |
| An idiot's idiocy | |
| My, my caring for you | |
| Caring for you | |
| Do you think we're a book | |
| Some kind of a table | |
| You can rest your feet on when you're able | |
| Red star of idiocy | |
| An idiot's idiocy | |
| My caring for you | |
| Poor pitiful creature | |
| To notice the pining | |
| The self deprivation | |
| The self flagellation of you | |
| Dear worshippers | |
| We do like you regal | |
| We do like you haughty | |
| We do love to look upon your perfect body | |
| The hair on your shoulders | |
| The smell of your armpit | |
| The taste of your vulva and everything on it | |
| We all really love you | |
| And you have no meaning | |
| You don't even see us | |
| You were never caring | |
| You go do what you do | |
| You do it for you | |
| No one exists with you | |
| You're way above caring | |
| Leave a trail upon the wake | |
| That no one ever tries to take | |
| Because waiting for you | |
| Thinking of you | |
| Is another way of dying | |
| Is another way of dying | |
| I'm clawing your chest' | |
| Til your collarbone bleeds | |
| Piercing your nipples 'til | |
| I bite them off | |
| I scratch your face and bite your shoulders | |
| Way above caring | |
| Way above caring | |
| And your Kotex jukebox | |
| Your Kotex jukebox | |
| I'm doomed, | |
| I'm swearing | |
| Waiting for you | |
| In your high heels and nightie | |
| Your leather dress squeaking | |
| Latex now sweating, waiting for you | |
| In your tincture | |
| Your opium white bathrobe | |
| Your white tiles run red now | |
| Are we both dead now? | |
| The liquid exchange of our heart | |
| The liquid exchange of our heart | |
| Are we both dead now? | |
| You're way above caring | |
| Your heart on your sleeve | |
| A red star of idiocy | |
| An idiot's idiocy | |
| My caringMy caring for you | |
| My caring for you | |
| You're way beyond caring | |
| Your heart on your sleeve | |
| A red star of idiocy | |
| An idiot's idiocy | |
| My caring for you | |
| Oblivious to caring | |
| Oblivious to caring | |
| Oblivious to caring | |
| Leave a trail upon the wake | |
| That no one ever tries to take | |
| Because waiting for you | |
| Because thinking of you | |
| Is another way of dying | |
| You're way above caring | |
| Oblivious to caring | |
| Oblivious to caring | |
| You poor pitiful creature | |
| The mistake of feeling | |
| The one who rejects you is the winner, | |
| It's trueThe winner in heartbreak | |
| The winner in caring | |
| The winner in every miniscule method of wearing | |
| Your heart on your sleeve | |
| A red star of idiocy | |
| An idiot's idiocy | |
| Your heart on your fuckin' sleeve | |
| My caring for you | |
| We were meant to be peons | |
| We're meant to be peons | |
| Mere mortals below | |
| Meant to be servants | |
| Meant to be dismissible objects one fucks with | |
| Oh, oh, oh you're so special | |
| No law meant for you | |
| You come and go like the goddess you are | |
| The fingertips run through your hair | |
| A billowing heart beats | |
| FeelingFeeling | |
| What a glorious feeling | |
| To be so rejected | |
| So rejected | |
| An idiot's idiocy | |
| My caring for you | |
| You think | |
| I'm a book or a table | |
| You can rest your fuckin' feet on | |
| When you're able | |
| The taste of your vulva, everything on it | |
| The hair on your shoulders | |
| The smell of your armpit | |
| We do love you, to look upon your perfect body | |
| We love you regal | |
| We love you haughty | |
| Oblivious to caring | |
| Oblivious to caring | |
| CaringOh my dear | |
| Oh my dear | |
| Oh my dear | |
| Oblivious to caring | |
| Are we really dead now? | |
| Are we both dead now? |
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