She's bright and you're bleak
|
Then she kicked you out into the street
|
You call her when you're weary and weak
|
And the coma you slip into
|
Will hold all this against you
|
You will learn to bite your tongue when you speak
|
You resolve all your sings
|
Start it all over again
|
|
Don't go home,
|
If you need to, you can call me from the road.
|
|
If you only noticed
|
|
You're dressed up and you're nervous
|
And we've well-rehearsed our burdens
|
You feel like nothing is complete
|
|
You're soulless and you're worthless
|
You'll be nothing until you notice
|
You can find regufe in anyone you meet
|
|
But don't go home
|
If you need to, you can call me from the road
|
You might notice
|
|
-----------------
|
The Thrill Of The Hunt
|
| Kind Of Like Spitting |
