We aren't speaking again at some hole in the wall dive My eyes burn like hell, and I'm out of cigarettes. I can see through everyone, but the stale coffee; As my hair falls out in clumps all through breakfast. If there was a jukebox I would not low kick it Out of bed, out of mind, and out of moments. When you took my hand, I gave you them both bitch, but your prayers are listless and fucking self-centered. Your prayers are listless and completely self-centered. I even bet that we'll end up doing lunch here again On some other day, I won't care to vaguely remember. Finding you, to me, was like a 3rd-degree-grease/burn Sometimes, I wish I was as senseless as you try to be. Heading back to those silos, and their gold bloody shucks I can hear a tractor that needs an oil change real bad. If by chance you purposely wake me before reveille I hope you choke dead on that horn and die a winded mute. Your music was my dream; Better left your Nightmare.