wake up and waste a day chase away a day at a time and waste away clean-faced today clean taste today toothpaste makes my orange juice sour waste an hour or so my shower is slow the flowers that grow outside of my window are blooming I'm assuming that you're comin' over soon it's almost half past four and you called here at noon 'cause there's a picture that you wanna see now I'm not even good at being me anymore.
She got nicotine-basted lungs wasted thumbs and one of them asphalt tastin' tongues she wakes up to alarm her make-up is still on and she can't remember why she set the damn thing her heart is a machine art is meant to be seen not felt not heard it's just paint they're just words and fingers are for feeling fists are for beating scabs are for healing and blood is for bleeding that's just how I used to be but I'm not even good at being me anymore.
I wake up and waste an hour pace and glower at the TV set wasting power and aching in my head I'm banking in the red and compulsively charging cd's to my account so come out Virginia don't make me wait you Catholic girls start much too late now it's too late in the day for a matinee and I ain't got the money to pay for you anyway what should I say? I know it ain't how it used to be but I'm not good at being me anymore.
Put these awesome lyrics on your blog, profile or website!
Link - Websites & Blogs:
Copy to Clipboard:
COPY LINK
Embed - Websites & Blogs:
Copy to Clipboard: wake up and waste a day chase away a day at a time and waste away clean-faced today clean taste today toothpaste makes my orange juice sour waste an hour or so my shower is slow the flowers that grow outside of my window are blooming I'm assuming that you're comin' over soon it's almost half past four and you called here at noon 'cause there's a picture that you wanna see now I'm not even good at being me anymore.
She got nicotine-basted lungs wasted thumbs and one of them asphalt tastin' tongues she wakes up to alarm her make-up is still on and she can't remember why she set the damn thing her heart is a machine art is meant to be seen not felt not heard it's just paint they're just words and fingers are for feeling fists are for beating scabs are for healing and blood is for bleeding that's just how I used to be but I'm not even good at being me anymore.
I wake up and waste an hour pace and glower at the TV set wasting power and aching in my head I'm banking in the red and compulsively charging cd's to my account so come out Virginia don't make me wait you Catholic girls start much too late now it's too late in the day for a matinee and I ain't got the money to pay for you anyway what should I say? I know it ain't how it used to be but I'm not good at being me anymore.
NEW LYRICS 
