letra de lid - jude grant
my brain is fried from algorithms and bad nutrition
from my day job, i’m too tired to do the dishes
looks like i’m ordering take out again
then, i wander around my neighborhood past midnight
like i’m looking for trouble
something to reel against
make me feel real again
then, feel the wind blow through this hole in me
i can’t fill it up
so, all night, all i hear is its whistling
its whistling
don’t have anybody to light candles for, so i light this blunt instead
then, stay up all night drinking strong coffee i made
so i don’t ever go to bed alone
and, i guess i could change that, but i’m just so tired
of eating through new flings so fast
it makes me nauseous, and when it’s over
i get sick all over myself
then, feel it run through this hole in me
i can’t fill it up
so i just keep on looking for a lid
to cover it
i just can’t find one that fits
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