Dead in the water, nothing left
|
Except the stench of what has gone before
|
Make some coffee, drink it down
|
And fix upon the pattern on the wall
|
|
I stare at my face,
|
I know every trace
|
|
And I make it hard to get along with me
|
|
Bills and heartburn, pills and soaps
|
And flickin thru' the books you've read before
|
Tears come easy, words come hard
|
But there really isn't much to say no more
|
|
I stare at my face,
|
I know every trace
|
|
And I make it hard to get along with me
|
|
-----------------
|
Stuck on Amber
|
| The Boo Radleys |
