It's your game you have managed to grab everyone's attention the spotlight scorching your flesh caught between the pedestal and ceiling I can't just stand there to watch it as it raises soon it will crush you entirely and you know I would pull every arm and leg from socket of my own to just reach you and with all my force and weight I'd tip you over because I know you would land feet first I'd Expect your glare
Oh how my hand shakes from satisfaction this ink I drain dries like the salt on your wound don't forget to buy them out burn the, burn the confession box don't forget to win their hearts and level the chapel
Sweet irony, sarcasm always had its plague upon me can we humor this just for now? caught between the salted wound and punchline funnier then than now I've always, how I've missed it this value called value
Oh how my hand shakes from satisfaction this ink I drain dries like the salt on your wound
at this my voice is dry as you dissect my words and the knots that form may you press them against your worth
don't forget to buy them out burn the, burn the confession box don't forget to win their hearts and level the chapel
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Copy to Clipboard: It's your game you have managed to grab everyone's attention the spotlight scorching your flesh caught between the pedestal and ceiling I can't just stand there to watch it as it raises soon it will crush you entirely and you know I would pull every arm and leg from socket of my own to just reach you and with all my force and weight I'd tip you over because I know you would land feet first I'd Expect your glare
Oh how my hand shakes from satisfaction this ink I drain dries like the salt on your wound don't forget to buy them out burn the, burn the confession box don't forget to win their hearts and level the chapel
Sweet irony, sarcasm always had its plague upon me can we humor this just for now? caught between the salted wound and punchline funnier then than now I've always, how I've missed it this value called value
Oh how my hand shakes from satisfaction this ink I drain dries like the salt on your wound
at this my voice is dry as you dissect my words and the knots that form may you press them against your worth
don't forget to buy them out burn the, burn the confession box don't forget to win their hearts and level the chapel
This is when politics turns to gossip
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