|
With your wild, call the pace |
|
Taste the tracks of the waste |
|
With your wild, with your sweet |
|
With your cold black-eyed teeth |
|
I close my eyes and I pray, yes I pray |
|
Let it slide, let it slide |
|
Ignore me and everything I've done |
|
For I am stupid, I am poison |
|
I take this one and I taste the tracks |
|
I taste the tracks of the waste in my head |
|
And you face me instead |
|
I must be drifting somewhere |
|
I held in my hand but it's hard |
|
So hard to see reason |
|
The burning is here |
|
Is only here to follow through |
|
But here it is harder than a screaming fist and I hate it |
|
It's dark behind your smile and I can follow through |
|
Let it slide, let it slide |
|
Ignore me and everything I've done |
|
For words, like bullets they know when to come |
|
And taste the tracks, and taste the tracks |
|
Of the waste in my head and you face me instead |
|
Well, ignore me and everything I said |
|
For I am stupid, I am poison |
|
I held in my hand but it's hard |
|
So hard to see reason |
|
It's dark behind your smile |
|
And I can follow through |
|
I close my eyes and I pray, yes I pray |
|
With your wild, call the pace |
|
Taste the track of the waste |
|
With your wild, with your sweet |
|
With your cold black-eyed teeth |
