Strange

Lyrics

Feeding the starved opportunist on a steady diet of fingernails and surrounding skin; Just enough to keep him quiet I know i'm a little bit strange But I'll keep quiet and you don't have to say anything and this typhoon of bumbling ineptitude might deflate to just a gust in this room I'm getting better at leaving I'm a familiar sound in a colloquial din I am a compromise Everything's on loan we are interim