作曲 : Cameron Smith
I know you don't want to talk,
but...I just hope you listen
I've seen more suitcases on your bed than times I've seen your bed made
Bad days and sad ways to reconnect
I can live without you by my side,
but I can’t live next to you showing neglect
I need a parental advisory sticker on my regrets
I need internal revival with dinner to find my vest
I need a maternal but fatherly figure to put a heart in my chest
I need bare rental of bodily fixtures to somehow feel the rest
I need poison in my lungs and in my heart
I need a staple gun with one bullet left
to pin my insecurities to the front of my chest
I need forgiveness
I need a miracle
I need the miracle we call "forgiveness"
I need a witness
I can't move back in my dad's house,
he has space for a vacant body
The lab's out and the results are down
The first failure of a forsaken robbery
stealing the currency we used to bring peace
Please, pray for the living
I'll handle the deceased
When a swan song is a wrong call,
block numbers and shock collars in a studio apartment by the locked cellars
Where every word is poison but the poison tastes like honey
and money is the exception to the words we cannot speak
It's a breach of betrayal, a renewal of pain
Stain after stain,
cut the nerve to the membrane and escape through the release
I need less of what I have and more of what I lack
I need to forgive myself so I can have my friends back
I need to move up,
I need to move down
The sound of my voice bouncing off the walls is always a letdown
So I set down the nightgown and hear the rain pound
The same sound on paved ground or bloodhounds making a runaround
Making the sun go around, making gravity hold me down
Demanding gravity's attention every time I feel down
So cut the nerve to the membrane
Chemically speaking, I pray to God when we can breathe in space
So the brave souls in grave cold can meet someday
And we can all escape
I need God to look less like me and more like God
I need to look less than me and more like God
And stop making photocopies of the same sheet music
and use it to reach a pulpit
To each a steeple of gold,
melt it down to a calf as I feel the pain in my calves
Spitting on the face of a man hanging on a tree
then begging on my knees to also bleed
So the grays that took place in my pain won't feel so foreign
even though it feels complete
I need to stop breathing quickly so I can breathe in deep
I need to wake up my heart but let my mind sleep
I need poison in my lungs and my heart
I need a staple gun with one bullet left
to pin my insecurities to the front of my chest
I need forgiveness:(
I need a miracle:(
I need a miracle we call "forgiveness":(
I need a witness:(
I need sleep:(