I feel so fucking emo.
It's fucking cold and someone is being fucking cold and I'm out of cigarettes and Jackal or nobody is around to bum anything off of.
If You Can't Leave It Be Might As Well Make It Bleed by Dashboard Confessional
What you found sure upset you,
never saw it coming did you?
It's easy to be surprised
with both your eyes sewn closed.
Handled with great percision,
another faultless execution,
you're the subject of this exibition,
a willing cadaver, a willing cadaver.
Scalped, sutured, made whole again
These cuts are leaving creases.
Trace the scars, to fit the pieces,
to tell your story, you don't need to say a word.
So call off the cavalry,
you can't save a wretch like me.
Clean this off with kerosene,
if you't leave it be, might as well make it bleed.
Scalped, sutured, made whole again
Your wires are frayed, can't fire right,
you look better when out of sight,
you were not made to stand and fight,
there something better wrong with you.
Your pulse is anemic, your tired of the fire
you're bruising too easy, and falling behind,
and no one is waiting for you,
and no one is waiting for you.
So call off the quarantine,
you can't save the rest from me
Clean this off with kerosene,
if you't leave it be, might as well make it bleed.
Scalped, sutured, made whole again
Your wires are frayed, can't fire right,
you look better when out of sight,
you were not made to stand and fight,
there something better wrong with you.
Your pulse is anemic, your tired of the fire
you're bruising too easy, and falling behind,
and no one is waiting for you,
and no one is waiting for you.
My song to you. Whatever. But yeah. I like this song. You bastard.
If You Can't Leave It Be Might As Well Make It Bleed by Dashboard Confessional
What you found sure upset you,
never saw it coming did you?
It's easy to be surprised
with both your eyes sewn closed.
Handled with great percision,
another faultless execution,
you're the subject of this exibition,
a willing cadaver, a willing cadaver.
Scalped, sutured, made whole again
These cuts are leaving creases.
Trace the scars, to fit the pieces,
to tell your story, you don't need to say a word.
So call off the cavalry,
you can't save a wretch like me.
Clean this off with kerosene,
if you't leave it be, might as well make it bleed.
Scalped, sutured, made whole again
Your wires are frayed, can't fire right,
you look better when out of sight,
you were not made to stand and fight,
there something better wrong with you.
Your pulse is anemic, your tired of the fire
you're bruising too easy, and falling behind,
and no one is waiting for you,
and no one is waiting for you.
So call off the quarantine,
you can't save the rest from me
Clean this off with kerosene,
if you't leave it be, might as well make it bleed.
Scalped, sutured, made whole again
Your wires are frayed, can't fire right,
you look better when out of sight,
you were not made to stand and fight,
there something better wrong with you.
Your pulse is anemic, your tired of the fire
you're bruising too easy, and falling behind,
and no one is waiting for you,
and no one is waiting for you.
My song to you. Whatever. But yeah. I like this song. You bastard.