Cinnamon

Fiendin', peekin' at the centerfolds Cuttin' tinsel into gold And hopin' you won't love me still Mellow, cringin' ugly fellows Mixin' water into gin And chasin' it with cinnamon Oh, my God Kingdom wants me up Marksman, shooting apples off of heads Jonesing for a cigarette With sloppy shots on purpose Keepin' tabs on all my scrimmages And crossin' out my closest friends For someone I can't recognize Oh, my God Kingdom wants me... up! Don't call it a ghost to my own (Oh, oh) (Hmm) God called my life a pretty life It made me cry Like a... (Oh-oh-oh)