Broken arms, I would hold you
|
Even if I had broken arms.
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Can you make a tourniquet for a broken heart?
|
A bad idea?
|
Well I suppose it¡¯s up to me to juxtapose myself.
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There¡¯s little guys with little guns
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Inside our mouths, inside our heads,
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They make us suffer.
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I¡¯ll stay home, it¡¯s a good thing I think I¡¯m funny.
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Don¡¯t come by, I¡¯ll be making jokes about you.
|
But then again, you could come in.
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We could make fun of all the things we used to yesterday.
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I¡¯ve got a five, you¡¯ve got a ten,
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That¡¯s fifteen dollars, we could see how long it takes to spend.
|
You like games that drive us both insane
|
And I roll the dice but that¡¯s just to be nice to you.
|
Why don¡¯t we try something else for a change?
|
Hey, I know!
|
Why don¡¯t I poke out my eyes for you over and over
|
And over and over again?
|
Get out of my house!
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And can I come with you?
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¡®Cuz where there¡¯s a will there¡¯s a way
|
We can kill all the midgets with guns
|
That we have on our tongues
|
Just stick out your lips, lean in close, and we¡¯ll kiss them
|
Goodbye to the midgets with guns.
|
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Midgets With Guns
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| Pain (American Band) |
