My shame is cold like a grave
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But my lust is hot like an engine
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With pistons that pump
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And a heart that thumps to the beat
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But I can’t wrap my head around
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So I let my body fall instead
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I’ve lost the rhythm
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All I’m left with is my regrets
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Can you hear the sound?
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Ticking, I am ticking on
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Automatic I am all the things I’ve done,
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Set to explode I am ticking on...
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What on earth can atone for all the wrong I’ve done?
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From the depths, from your depths I’m crawling home again
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I’m crawling home again
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I’ve been thinking maybe I can make this right
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In fact, I know that I’ve got to make this right
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I’m done fucking around with the guilt engine
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Ticking, I am ticking on
|
Automatic I am all the things I’ve done
|
|
-----------------
|
The Guilt Engine
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| Gatsby's American Dream |
