get the idea / i've been standing on this stool for too long
loose rope around my neck, a black bag over my head;
got my ipod in my ears listening to all the things you said
on rapid repeat, that loose rope a white cord strangling me.
get the idea / you're not fazed by the fall, as you stand on a stool
beside me. loose rope around your neck tangled in a tree, that branch, nay
that chapter you sent to sabotage me. yeah / you say it so sweetly
my old lover, my old friend...
this ain't a game of fucking make pretend,
not now it's not
we don't end
like we begin.
Well i've been a fool before, but now I'm not,
shot that glance at me with those auburn eyes
lying lips tripping up, burning up around me.
What did we become?
Can't be sure that this is love,
no, can't be sure that this is love.
Those white spiders crawl from my eyes,
across the stony beach,
and on gossamer threads
trace the moonlight sky.
no, i don't need you
I don't need you at all.