My brain makes drugs that keep me slow
A hilarious joke for some dead pharaoh
But now, not even the Masons know
what drug will keep night from coming
There are so many tools
that are made for my hands
But the tide smashes all my
best-laid plans to sand
And there's always someone
to say its easy for me,
but I revenged myself
all over myself,
There's nothing you can say to me
You never held it at the right angle
you never held it at the right angle
catch a, catch a, catch a, catch..
a falling star,
but wash your hands of it
catch a, catch a, catch a, catch..
a falling star,
because you can't hold it.
Did it poison my food?
Is it cause I'm a girl?
If I puked up some sonnets,
would you call me "a miracle"?
I'm gonna go
where my urge leads no more
swallowed, waist-deep
in the gore of the forest
A boreal feast
let it finish me, please..
Cause I revenged myself
all over myself,
There's nothing you can do to me
You never held it at the right angle
you never held it at the right angle
catch a, catch a, catch a, catch..
a falling star,
but wash your hands of it
catch a, catch a, catch a, catch..
a falling star,
because you can't own it.