LUSH

I'm watching you in a frame Storm and window My sanity bounces around Somewhere between the two I try to stop the low tides With a fucking high ball I drown my meds I drown my soggy view I'm stopping you in name Normal and simple Can't find the novacaine to lash away at you It's not that it's not that It's not that it's not that Yes sir I've got these thorns In my blood stream It's not that it's not that It's not that it's not that And a bag of green inside my boot It's not that I feel much sorrow The fake rat of Dave Navarro I bocci balled your brain Not good if so And stares not do I watch The way they want me to I'm right below your eyes What a fucking handful If you're tired then go sleep somewhere Beneath canned soup It's not that I feel much sorrow