And I saw you're curves clean and tight,
And I saw your smile, sarcastic and trite,
It was external and I was surprised:
I think I'm forgetting you.
And my best friend has tied up his mind,
He's a sad boy now, skinny and scared,
Fucked up and internally scarred,
I think the grave's calling me now.
Endurance of a waiting room,
surrounded by head stones,
Painted with names of souls,
Who died waiting in line.
But if I can't get things on track,
If I can't get life under my skin.
Heaven's gonna smother me.
Oh, lord, I'm vessel for experience.
So have mercy on my spirit.
I think the grave's calling me.
And I can't close my eyes tight enough
To accept the fact
That life's a waiting game.
And I saw you're curves, clean and tight,
And I saw your smile, sarcastic and trite,
It was external and I was surprised:
I think I'm forgetting you.
I think I'm forgetting you.
