Holy Video (MV)

Maybe growing up means coughing up my lungs behind your fence, so you can keep laughing
Or hanging out with people I don't know, so you won't be mad at me, mad at me, mad at me
But you're always mad at me, mad at me, mad at me
So don't look at me like I'm a ghost
Unclean and dragging your nails through crimson on your kitchen cabinet 'cause you couldn't sleep alone

Don't bother saying it's not what you wanted
'Cause the words burn my face and it fills my mouth with blood
But I wouldn't spit in your sink

And I walked my way through hell, and I woke up on white sheets
With the nurses listening and vinyl plastic underneath me
Vinyl plastic underneath me

And the morning makes me ill and my jaw feels heavy
Tourniquet around my neck and my wrist
And don't bother saying there is a God
Watching the way that we move now
Unclean and uncut, we're not holy anymore

And the TV downstairs is blaring a static
We're not holy anymore
We're not holy anymore
We're not holy anymore
We're not holy anymore