Lyrics: Fredrik Gustafsson/Rassmus Bjornson/Agrin Rahmani/Gabriel Dahlbeck
Music: Fredrik Gustafsson/Rassmus Bjornson/Agrin Rahmani/Gabriel Dahlbeck
Counting ticks from the clock
It's a morning too modest
She's finding parts of my face
Funny looking and anxious
It's a cruel world before the eyes of these posh innocents
I would use her to stay alive if the ground were to bend
And baby pulls her hair for a Vicodin
She falls flat on the bed again
Mutters something about the end
While covering her eyes with both her hands
I on the other hand
I feel fine with the way I am
I awoke to her elegance
I've figured out a way to make amends
"Could you cut open all of my chest
I'm already too restless
Of course I'm feeling depressed
Find a way we could use it"
It's a cruel world before the eyes of these posh innocents
I would use her to stay alive if the ground were to bend
And baby pulls her hair for a Vicodin
She falls flat on the bed again
Mutters something about the end
While covering her eyes with both her hands
I on the other hand
I feel fine with the way I am
I awoke to her elegance
I've figured out a way to make amends
My my my
We're pretenders
We're beaming
We're the signs of our time
My my
Oh whatever
And baby pulls her hair for a Vicodin
She falls flat on the bed again
Mutters something about the end
While covering her eyes with both her hands
I on the other hand
I feel fine with the way I am
I awoke to her elegance
I've figured out a way to make amends