| Is this...? /we love ourselves to death |
16. Sep 2006|15:25 |
see we're sneaking home
you've got your ripped jeans on
you leave doc bootprints on the lawn
swearing hard is this the girl i used to know
uncouth words i miss the girl that i fell for
we sit we think we drink we fall upstairs and dress confess the mess our lives are in
depressed we rest we jest we love ourselves to death but reek of garlic breath and to the bathroom next
we rush we flush we brush we splash on smells we squeeze we tease oh please let me take you now
but no suppose she knows we really ought to go she's picking up the phone just you wait 'til we get home |
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