They beam things into your head
|
The ghosts of your pleasure and contempt
|
When we were liars things were seamless
|
When we were wired the world was like a secret
|
I close my eyes now and I scream
|
I turn the light on and there¡¯s nothing left redeeming
|
I saw your face before it changed
|
The gun it makes you look nicer in a bad way
|
|
So low for how high?
|
Well it¡¯s too late tonight
|
And I¡¯m sure you¡¯re right
|
As low for how high
|
|
And after this there¡¯s just the circus
|
And every morning you carnie heart stops working
|
It gets tight in there sometimes
|
Looking for the defects, talking like it¡¯s a reflex
|
I close my mouth now and I scream
|
I open the door and there¡¯s nothing left redeeming
|
I saw your face before the rough
|
You should wait around awhile, your body¡¯s bound to turn up
|
|
So low for how high?
|
Well it¡¯s too late tonight
|
And I¡¯m sure you¡¯re right
|
As low for how high
|
|
-----------------
|
Running For Home
|
| Allison Crowe |
