120 Ways To Kill You: An Illustrated Children's Book Songtext
Wait, I really don't have the gots for this, it must have been abstracted with my appendix, or maybe it
grows with my wisdom teeth. Wait, it might be such a stretch, it's not my fault legally, I'll dial the
doctors now, you're right I never was a man for the law. Please don't walk away in defeat. Wait, I haven't
lost my courage on the rocks, I haven't quite found the words to use. I'm not sure they make the cards to
break this ice. Wait; Please wait until our socks are bitterly soaked, until we have to roll up our pants,
until the giraffes flee to row boats. Please don't walk away in anger darling, exit gracefully like the
evening's sunset, enter the scene starting with a dial tone, tightrope over these razorblade
complications. Cutting myself, almost everyday, let it feel so real, let me taste the pain. One day we'll
live in igloos on the Galapagos, 'till then let's remember the Atlantic air in-between our hands...The
worms are moving, the grass is growing, flowers are blooming, the leaves are dropping, the birds are
chirping, clouds are forming, the sun is burning, self medication never ends...I taught you how to hate,
you taught me how to love too. This is how I lost my mind on you. This is our final dance, you taught me
how to love and I taught you how to hate; everything is based off of you. Isn't it funny how we lost
control, or how I lost my mind on you?
grows with my wisdom teeth. Wait, it might be such a stretch, it's not my fault legally, I'll dial the
doctors now, you're right I never was a man for the law. Please don't walk away in defeat. Wait, I haven't
lost my courage on the rocks, I haven't quite found the words to use. I'm not sure they make the cards to
break this ice. Wait; Please wait until our socks are bitterly soaked, until we have to roll up our pants,
until the giraffes flee to row boats. Please don't walk away in anger darling, exit gracefully like the
evening's sunset, enter the scene starting with a dial tone, tightrope over these razorblade
complications. Cutting myself, almost everyday, let it feel so real, let me taste the pain. One day we'll
live in igloos on the Galapagos, 'till then let's remember the Atlantic air in-between our hands...The
worms are moving, the grass is growing, flowers are blooming, the leaves are dropping, the birds are
chirping, clouds are forming, the sun is burning, self medication never ends...I taught you how to hate,
you taught me how to love too. This is how I lost my mind on you. This is our final dance, you taught me
how to love and I taught you how to hate; everything is based off of you. Isn't it funny how we lost
control, or how I lost my mind on you?