Cry me a river, goddamn, cry me a sea
Flood this room with ocean water, fuck it, life's a beach
Turn my skin a pale blue, rip the colour our my hair
I see in grey, I see in grey, I see in grey everywhere
Reading Sylvia Plath and Murakami
Words ripped right out of my sixth form diary
I cannot stand the hand that traces mangled words across your floodlit faces
Oh no, what a lovely surprise it was to see you last Saturday night
We had so much to talk about
I'm so glad we could talk it out
But there's a headache in my chest
Would you cut it out? Would you cut it out?
And there's a beating in my head
Would you knock me out? Would you knock me out?
Would you, please?
Well, trash the moped! (What?)
Bring me a dial! (How?)
Maybe later we can start a goddamn garden fire (ow!)
This must not be who I am, there's still so much to do
Everything happens so much!
I see in grey, I see in grey
I see blue
Oh no, what a poor mistake it was to get drunk on a day like today
We had so little to talk about
But such little room between each others mouths
But there's a headache in my chest
Would you cut it out? Would you cut it out?
And there's a beating in my head
Would you knock me out? Would you knock me out?
And there's a headache in my chest
But there's a headache in my chest
Would you cut it out? Would you cut it out?
And there's a beating in my head
Would you knock me out? Would you knock me out?
Would you, please?
Please!