She came down the staircase
|
Climbed into a dumpster
|
She grabbed an index card and she taped it to her forehead and it read
|
Poor white trash
|
She grabbed a gun, put it to her heart and pulled the trigger
|
Now she's dead
|
It's just a thought
|
Don't you look at me that way
|
Now they're talkin' to me and I'm talkin' back again
|
Now they're talkin' to me and I'm talkin' back again
|
|
Sorry
|
Sorry baby
|
I'm so sorry
|
Sorry baby
|
I'm so
|
|
I'm looking through a plastic bag
|
It's on my face
|
It squares my head
|
A little moist hot head sweat
|
Some little beads of brain
|
A little mind rain
|
It's just a thought inside my head
|
Those little voices, they're talkin' to me
|
Don't you look at me that way, that way
|
|
Now they're talkin' to me and I'm talkin' back again
|
Now they're talkin' to me and I'm talkin' back again
|
|
24,900 miles an hour to break away from this earth spin
|
So want me to start running right now
|
Right now
|
24,900 miles an hour
|
|
I need a baseball bat
|
I'm gonna trash this office
|
These people, they're fuckin' with my head
|
I can't move
|
And they left me here
|
Strapped to this bed
|
It's another thought inside my head
|
Those little voices, they're talkin' to me
|
Don't you leave me here this way
|
|
Now they're talkin' to me and I'm talkin' back again
|
Now they're talkin' to me and I'm talkin' back again
|
|
Sorry
|
Sorry baby
|
I'm so sorry
|
Sorry baby
|
I'm so
|
|
Oh how do I hear
|
In this little afterthought
|
And my little aftershock
|
Behind the cheerful stare
|
I wake up from the nightmare
|
And I just grew aware
|
A little too late
|
|
-----------------
|
24,900 Miles Per Hour
|
| 7 Year Bitch |
