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Twisted Tongue
Matt Maeson
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Half of the decade, trying to cope
More that I endure, sparser the hope
So, pry up the tiles, and gut out the floors
Find the foundations not safe anymore
And after the Lord speaks, baby, take me where the crowd don't run
And I'll find my shadow waiting, filthy with a twisted tongue
And I'll hide everything in my head
And forget everyone that I've met
And I'll never be open again
Oh, how good it must feel to not love anything
ย
Half of the decade
Caught in the rope
Fashion the headache
I'll be the host
And after the Lord speaks, baby, take me where the crowd don't run
And I'll find my shadow waiting, filthy with a twisted tongue
And I'll hide everything in my head
And forget everyone that I've met
And I'll never be open again
Oh, how good it must feel to not love anything
Oh, how good it must feel to not love anything
Oh, how good it must feel to not love anything
ย