|
Serve my head on a plate |
|
Pulp my heart with ill will |
|
I did trust you |
|
Let to lust you, to be duped |
|
Thanks for fucking nothing |
|
Serve my head on a plate |
|
Pulp my heart with ill will |
|
Sensed a mystique, turn to spent air |
|
Killed it dead |
|
Thanks for fucking nothing |
|
Scrap the depths to salvage something |
|
Thanks for fucking nothing |
|
Drained my all, then drop the bombshell |
|
True, we were not joined |
|
Our every feature spliced |
|
Though you rushed in and took a lead |
|
Three words spouted |
|
This contagion crossed all divides |
|
Caused a shift in protective focus |
|
Three words flouted |
|
Untimely end, |
|
I should've clicked |
|
A sensory cut-out |
|
A spoiling of the harmony |
|
Of which we were about |
|
I don't despise or demonize |
|
But I just know your form |
|
Walk right out and move along |
|
And leap before you look |
|
Thanks for fucking nothing |
