The sound of tearing
Might wake the neighborsup,
But howelse am I supposed to get you off me.
You've been writing my own clichés,
And isn't it cute how apathy makes everyone smile.
Somebody please help this man he looks nearly dead,
Hacksaw in hand and a new convertible head.
"I had to feel something, or die trying."
This one last inevitably written cliché.
Edged with irony seems to have left us both,
With one truth :
"The beast cannot live without host."
So without thought, starve sycophant.
I'll never beleive you when you say everything's ok.
Catherine - Convertible Lyrics
Catherine - Convertible Lyrics
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If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
The sound of tearing
Might wake the neighborsup,
But howelse am I supposed to get you off me.
You've been writing my own clichés,
And isn't it cute how apathy makes everyone smile.
Somebody please help this man he looks nearly dead,
Hacksaw in hand and a new convertible head.
"I had to feel something, or die trying."
This one last inevitably written cliché.
Edged with irony seems to have left us both,
With one truth :
"The beast cannot live without host."
So without thought, starve sycophant.
I'll never beleive you when you say everything's ok.
Might wake the neighborsup,
But howelse am I supposed to get you off me.
You've been writing my own clichés,
And isn't it cute how apathy makes everyone smile.
Somebody please help this man he looks nearly dead,
Hacksaw in hand and a new convertible head.
"I had to feel something, or die trying."
This one last inevitably written cliché.
Edged with irony seems to have left us both,
With one truth :
"The beast cannot live without host."
So without thought, starve sycophant.
I'll never beleive you when you say everything's ok.