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Message Sent

アーティスト：Sage Francis  アルバム：Personal Journals 

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I've got some letters inside of my drawer that should have been stamped and delivered One is addressed to my ex it says I'm the type of kid who can't be lived with One is addressed to my friends it says I'm a mess so y'all can't visit One is addressed to myself but I don't know what personality or hand to give it I'm a God damn misfit...mismatched, but never missed much Mr Right-time-wrong-place with a long face until our lips touch I don't miss the mistrust, its what got our messages mixed up Before I rip up your letters let us see if I can tear you away from his clutch This stuff's a whole other drawer from a different dresser I'm not ready to address I went to the west to get my mind off things and I'm already depressed I give up. Get let down. Down play. Play games. Put on my game face Face my pharmecudial needs and feed on my medicine, but I don't like the way it tastes I go place to place without enough money to put a bed under me So I share my sleeping space with rodents, insects, and dust bunnies I laugh at the mess I've created for myself until it gets unfunny But I'm content in the fact that they don't expect respect, sex, love, or trust from me When I'm hungry I can taste it I hide in the basement Check up on me every now and then Because my mood swings low...and I can feel myself going down again Falling off is easy. Getting put on takes a bit of ass kissing I'd rather listen to myself flop on the ground than hear the sound of a mattress spring I rap and sing and talk and write and often type with 2 fingers The "hunt and kill" method I edit one third of a word per second Your emails sit in my unsent box. If you're a girl that I miss You'll eventually get my virtual good bye kiss The rest are addressed to my friends and the subject line is "Just check this fine bitch" And the one for myself is untitled but...its the same virus My wrists get slit on your shoulder blades when I lose my grip while I hold your face Let it drip on your golden laced silver slip... spilling all over the place I'd lay my jacket over the blood puddle when we'd go on dates to prove that I'm a gentleman, peddling my bike at a slower pace "The sum of the parts doesn't equal the whole," she states Before my parents get home I'll take time to find the



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投稿者： PetitLyrics
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