Texty: Can't Sing For Shit. Other. As Much Of A Choice.

Take time with your head, you're the only one who has to live inside it. I know you didn't tell me and i could have been warned. You leave me no choice. I have no choice. I wouldn't have guessed i would ever stay again to see. And if you write like a mirror in the back of the same sheet, there is nothing left to do but set it free. Between pressed fingers there is sunlight to flick to wings of voices that i dread. Too many lines to repeat from the bite you took off me and the damage you have time to do

(Thanks to recipesfordisaster for these lyrics)