Lyrics

Would you write a song? One with me? It'd be cool and complex and we'd bond over chamomile tea But alas, you're not here, and it's clear I'll just stay inside With the flies I'll just rot and pretend that everything's alright That it's cool That I'm chilling With my friends I'll think happy thoughts three times And I'll be fine Stay in line I'll go up high Jump off the cliff and break my spine So I can't feel a fucking thing So I can't feel a fucking thing So I can't feel a fucking thing