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letra de st. bartholomew's self-massacre of 1567 - wasted space

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you ask me where i’m going
i’m going nowhere but home
away from this stupid party
to sit on my bed alone

and as i trip over your doorstep
and shiver in the breeze
i stumble towards the light of morning
that holds no sympathy

another night camped out
on my couch again
sleeping with someone
i thought used to be a friend

broken bottles and shattered souls
ripped up jeans with tattered holes
frosty breath on tonight’s air
a turn for the poetic with
a melodramatic flair

my skin is dry and hollow and flaking
i’m always the godd-mn same
can’t make id down the street on my own
what a f-cking shame
another night camped out
on my couch again
sleeping with someone
i thought used to be a friend

another night camped out
on my couch again
sleeping with someone
i thought used to be a friend

f-ck

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