He trucks me out,
out from the little blue,
into a big blue,
and I'm the rag with the wetter shirt.
Speed it out, it will last forever,
when you want to kill his horse.
She makes me up with a tired bruise,
she tries to convince the mirror
that I am beautiful.
You've got to cease with the clattering in your head.
And angels wait for me with pain.
It's raining,
it's raining.
Feel like I'm drowning in my disheveled tweaks.
I'm fed up with the waiting.
Her friends swear on their soul.
Speed it out, it will last forever,
when you want to kill his horse.