We stumble and stare at the carnival lights that lit up New York City,
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From the rooftop in Brooklyn that was covered in bad graffiti.
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And then I let a thousand splinters pierce right through my spoiled liver,
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Whatever that was left of it.
|
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'Cuz I cursed my lonely memory with picture-perfect imagery.
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Maybe I'm not dying I'm just living in decaying cities,
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But I'm still healthy, I'm still fine,
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I'll be spending all my time readin' the obituaries.
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But I will fuck this up,
|
I fucking know it.
|
I will fuck this up,
|
I fucking know it.
|
I will fuck this up,
|
I fucking know it.
|
I will fuck this up,
|
I fucking know it.
|
|
Cause I was the shadow of the waxwing slain
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I felt the false azure from windowpanes
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I am just freaking out, yeah I'll be fine.
|
|
But I will fuck this up,
|
I fucking know it.
|
I will fuck this up,
|
I fucking know it.
|
I will fuck this up,
|
I fucking know it.
|
I will fuck this up,
|
I fucking know it.
|
|
-----------------
|
The Obituaries
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| The Menzingers |
