About as subtle as an earthquake I know,
My mistakes were made for you
And in the backroom of a bad dream she came and whisked me away enthused
And it's as solid as a rock rolling down a hill,
The fact is that it probably will hit something on the hazardous terrain
And we're just following the flock around and in-between
Before we're smashed to smithereens like they were
Then we scramble from the blame
And it, the fame that put words in her mouth,
She couldn't help but spit them out,
Innocence and arrogance entwined,
In the filthiest of minds
She was bitten on her birthday and now,
A face in the crowd she's not
And I suspect that now forever the shape she came to escape is forgot and it's a
lot to ask her not to sting and give her less than everything,
Around your crooked conscience she will wind