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You must be crazy |
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Or could it be true that your memory's been so unkind |
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So tired and lazy |
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You never could search for the things that you wanted to find |
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Bound by a fear of a knife in your back |
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The look on your face says your starting to crack |
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You're putting it down to a dent in your pride |
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But the misery's sticking to you like a thorn in your side |
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Can't face the demons |
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Cos there's not a demon would want to be snared in your eyes |
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So you say you're leaving |
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And you pack up your bags and you paint on a whole new disguise |
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Out of the door like a fox on the hunt |
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There's fire in your eyes someone's gonna get burnt |
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You're looking for somewhere to lay down and hide |
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Cos the misery's sticking to you like a thorn in your side |
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Bound by a fear of a knife in your back |
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The look on your face says your starting to crack |
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You're putting it down to a dent in your pride |
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But the misery's sticking to you, yeah yeah yeah |
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Out of the door like a fox on the hunt |
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There's fire in your eyes someone's gonna get burnt |
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You're looking for somewhere to lay down and hide |
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Cos the misery's sticking to you like a thorn in your side |
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You burn bridges |
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By doing it all for the sake of a little respect |
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You cut the stitches |
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By giving it all to the heart of a little black egg |
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Bound to the cross by the nails in your hand |
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Your looking for someone you might understand |
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Carrying on like your spirit has died |
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Cos the misery's sticking to you like a thorn in your side |
