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cuddlegoon

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I haven't showered in weeks
Taste the sour on my teeth
Give me an hour to speak and I'm gone
I haven't showered in weeks
Taste the sour on my teeth
Give me an hour to speak and I'm gone

Wake up, get high,
Relax a bit
I relapsed a bit
Bruises on my shins
'Cause the fucking knee pads don't fit
Muzzle on the lacrid kid
Was he just a accident?
Underneath the fabric,
Huddle, pretend that it's magic
It's unfathomable, tragic
That we cover up the past
Replacing luggage with some baggage
Never actually hash it out
Only brag on cash amounts
And how we're doing better
With the new ones that we're bedding
Hey, yo, actually that sweater
I returned, can I just get it?
Can I just get it?
Nevermind

I haven't showered in weeks
Taste the sour on my teeth
Give me an hour to speak and I'm gone
I haven't showered in weeks
Taste the sour on my teeth
Give me an hour to speak and I'm gone

And I don't really miss you, I just miss myself
While thinking of the value onto which I really wish I'd held
'Cause things are really different and that's really hitting different
Didn't think I'd ever end a thing without another sitting
But I kissed my love, forgiven what we did to fucking
Live with bunk conditions, such a prison
Dug with love as the intention
But in end, the intent
Really don't get mentioned
We just cope by talking shit
Playing pretend like it's authentic
So many sent, but no one ever gets the message
I digress, I have no answers, just a pondering mind
It's the prophet for life
Predict the future wrongs of mine
With every single song I write
With every single song I write,
With every single song I write,
With every single song I write,
With every single song I write,
With every single song I write,
With every--

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