|
On your third broken window, |
|
Your hair full of glass, |
|
Throw your clothes in the hallway, |
|
Just a sheet on your back. |
|
So you're super-connected now? |
|
All the freaks gather around, |
|
And the crowd in your bedroom waits |
|
For a piece of your personal stash. |
|
Are there heart strings connected |
|
To the wings you've got slapped on your back? |
|
Better climb in the window cause I'm closing the door. |
|
On your third broken window, |
|
With your hair full of glass, |
|
Saw your clothes in the hallway, |
|
Just a curtain on your back. |
|
I laugh. |
|
Are there heart strings connected |
|
To the wings you've got slapped on your back? |
|
Better climb in the window cause I'm closing the door. |
|
Now I'm spinning on a dime. |
|
Now I'm spinning on a dime. |
|
Now I'm spinning on a dime. |
|
Like you claim to do, |
|
Like now, like now. |
|
Are there heart strings connected |
|
To the poison coming out of your mouth? |
|
Are you super-connected? |
|
Are you super-connected now? |
|
I'm spinning on a dime. |
|
Throw your clothes in the hallway, |
|
And I'm closing the door. |
