If I can't crawl inside of you,
|
I'm laughing with a broken face
|
I stumble across my self esteem.
|
But to picture the pleasure is making me want my space.
|
|
Understand...
|
that God wrapped you like a bow.
|
But in my head...
|
There's some shelves that need cleaning,
|
from basement to ceiling, control.
|
|
If what you're seeing is an open book,
|
thats great 'cuz I'm an open book.
|
But I'm real shy.
|
|
There's a part of me seeking and desperatly needing
|
to open up.
|
That's strange 'cuz I'm an open book,
|
a confused boy.
|
|
I'm an automatic steeple for depressed and lonely people.
|
My heart while in its cage, is used to give and not
|
receive a thing,
|
But the only funny thing is that I dont know how to give myself advice.
|
|
I've got this post dramatic thing
|
I've got this tattoo of a ring that lies
|
around my wedding finger and thats where I want to state this claim.
|
That I've got to learn to live and dream
|
before I go and get myself in love.
|
|
In love.
|
|
Theres Zoloft, Welbutrin, theres Paxil thats proven,
|
no side effects.
|
But the rest left unnamed 'cuz they worked like a charm on me.
|
|
But when your savings is drying,
|
you can't stop from crying
|
you've got to suck it up.
|
You're not her buttercup,
|
you're not her favorite book.
|
|
-----------------
|
Answer
|
| Blue October |
