I can't write, i can't sleep
I can't think of a way to say what i feel
I can't move, i can't blink
I can't think of a thought for the thought of me stealing it
I can't ever breathe original air
Moves like a neon avalanche
On a pastel mountain and i come so slowly
When i come please have me
Paper pilot on a head on collision, routine position
Mark out the plot
Map written in fiction
Don't know how to function
I can't even breathe non-fictional air
Please take my hand and hold it just like a lion would
And i'll pull out your tongue
And burn it just like the weather could
Please take my hand and hold it just like a lion would
And i will pull out your tongue
And burn it just like the weather could
Moves like a neon avalanche
On a pastel mountain and i come so slowly
When i come
When i come please have me
Please have me
