Standing in the corner
Steeped in fuligin gloom
Stock still, the model of patience
All the joy has left the room

Slipping over while you’re sleeping
Drag the pillow across your face
Gouge our your pretty eyes
And leave filthy copper in their place

Empty bottles
and broken dreams | and busted teeth
I’ve lost control
of what’s in front of me
If it cuts at all
I know it cuts too deep
If I can’t kill you all
I’ll take some with me

Broken bottles
and busted teeth
Oh I’m losing sight of
what’s in front of me
If I cut at all
I know I’ll cut too deep
If I can kill myself
I’ll take you with me

Fighting poor impulse control
When the moon is high
When the mood, is right
You’re welcome to plead your case
You can talk all you want
I think we’ve got all night

Duct tape and plastic sheets
6 mil or better
Pays to not be cheap
Laying ruin to your dental ID
with some Dom Perignon
circa 1983

Broken bottles
and busted teeth
I’ve lost control
of what’s in front of me
If it cuts at all
I know it cuts too deep
If I can’t kill you all
I’ll take some with me

Broken bottles
and busted teeth
I’m losing sight
of what’s in front of me
If I could cut at all
I know I’d cut too deep
If I can’t kill you all
I’ll take some with me