I think they're coming to get ya
The stars, the drugs It's all an election
A gold cup full of tears
She do the math when he disappears
He smoked two hundred cigarettes
She don't know how to forget the smell
She don't know how to forget his name
The fashion killer, painkiller, pain
I think they're coming to get ya
Your sad eyes, it's all an erection, I think we're just going crazy
The junk Is finished and that's not amazing
What do you think about my faults?
The same bad things that I think about yours
I love your bullshit, I love your thoughts
Don't let me live with this remorse
I think they're coming to get ya
Your sad eyes, it's all an erection, I think we're just going crazy
The junk Is finished and that's not amazing
What do you think about my faults?
The same bad things that I think about yours
I love your bullshit, I love your thoughts
Don't let me live with this remorse
