| In these eastern highways
|
| I’m brittle like my bones
|
| December’s got me feeling like
|
| I never left home
|
| In these eastern highways
|
| I’m brittle like my bones
|
| December’s got me feeling like
|
| I never left home
|
| Forget my name cause I’m a call away
|
| Storing shame inside my skinny frame
|
| Know you hate when you don’t get your way
|
| And isn’t that something?
|
| Barefoot on the train tracks
|
| Sunburn on my crooked back
|
| Little poles about brittle bones
|
| Scream for help, then I hide the low
|
| In these eastern highways
|
| I’m brittle like my bones
|
| December’s got me feeling like
|
| I never left home
|
| In these eastern highways
|
| I’m brittle like my bones
|
| December’s got me feeling like
|
| I never left home
|
| Then the asphalt cracks
|
| It’s windows froze and an all black jacket
|
| Grab that hatchet, say I won’t do it
|
| Outside skin, inside red fluid
|
| Consume all the fumes
|
| Now your veins pump sewage
|
| Alone, no home, who the fuck needs a unit?
|
| Much less a crew dude, I’m a lew dude
|
| See the sky looks blue to you, to me it only used to
|
| I see no other way around this
|
| Let me fall into the ground and
|
| This world looks further with an old gaze
|
| So far from things that you could never say |