Lyrics

The 41 ran late
In two colors we segregate, despite ourselves
It must have been past eight
Oh Doctor resuscitate, Invite yourself
Like two backyard feral cats
Speaking in sharp hisses, chasing down the rats
Your mouth is on fire
Tripping up any meaning, snapping like a wire
Chorus:
The things we never say
But we?re thinking
Inside unstable heads
The things we won?t admit
To feeling -
Fluorescent lights might shed
When graveyard shifts come home
Gate ticking like a metronome, divisively
I should have been alone
Your message on the telephone, reliably
Sticky morning sweat
Coupled with sour kisses, yo quiero forget
Your mouth is on fire
Tripping up any meaning, snapping like a wire
Chorus
The golden plated world you envy with eyes shot red
Is untied beneath those seams in the fabric on which you tread
But take no comfort in the shadows of your misery, no
?Cause everything?s just a fabricated version of?
Chorus