vanilla slut, your eyes alive in the threesome
and this flickering screen isn't small enough to hold ya
eyes echo on a tightrope, ride the bus home and hope for rain
i hope this tour isn't down the drain
hope it doesn't slip away from me
eyes are salt on the ride home
lay the rust on me
i need to hole up in my parents' house by the river
where i can sober up from some shows that left me feeling sad i guess
sad like dry bones -- on your bird chest i leave a bite like iron
and on your thin neck, you lay the rust on me
we cut our teeth on a queen-sized in cold spring
murder apartment layered timeless in ivy
never violent, but i was never ever honest
full of silence and excuses
well goddamn blue mirrors and warm dawn thievery
all those pills on the freeway and we're going someplace real
well goddamn blue mirrors and my morning bravery
where i don't speak to you, i don't tell you what i've done
crying bones don't speak, i mean, i mean
give me a comfortable shoulder in these dusty sheets
and i miss your body in the morning
the curve of your spine in my teeth
now i've got this pain in the right side of my jaw
and i can't remember where it came from
and i'm lusting after the bartender
and waiting for my friends to leave
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