Texty: Big 10-4. Testing the Atmosphere. Deadman.

These blood shot eyes, they don't compromise,
And this dry cottonmouth, spits out words she can't figure out,
And I'm drowning on my bed, and the phone falls out of reach,
We'll I am like a dead man washed upon the beach,

Hold my head down under water,
And pull me up just to watch me suffer,
Headlights from your car,
Chase the shadows on my wall that kept me comfort,
But she loves to watch me suffer,

And these blood shot eyes, they don't recognize,
And the look on your face, you always seem so damn out of place,
And I'm crashed on your bed, and your hand falls out of reach,
I am like a dead man washed upon the beach,

Hold my head down under water,
And pull me up just to watch me suffer,

Headlights from your car,
Chase the shadows on my wall that kept me comfort,

We'll I am on my last nerve in case you haven't heard,
I burn with every word,
I close my eyes, you kick me in the side,
But I am still alive, I am still alive, I said I'm still alive,

Hold my head down under water,
And pull me up just to watch me sufferr,
She holds my head down under water,
But she pulls me up just to watch me suffer
I am what she thinks that I am I've become her dead man