Underground_Network
June 27th, 2009, 05:58 PM
They say when the going gets rough
You better strut your stuff, strut your stuff!
But I don't got none, I don't have anything,
I just have scars, and shattered memories...
It was a pastime, but not the best time,
I spent in an isolated bathroom,
Not at my house, not at anyone's
Just in hell yeah, just in nowhere.
I was lonely, I was burning,
I was fiery, I was swollen,
I was kidnapped, by my own self,
I was holed up in a motel (in nowhere else, in nowhere else).
Locked the door, both to the front
And to the bathroom and I pulled out
My switchblade, six inches in length,
And I sliced at, and I sliced at
All the skin on, on my right side.
I was lonely, I was burning
I was fiery, I was swollen,
I was kidnapped, by my own self,
I was holed up in a motel (in nowhere else, in nowhere else).
I took a lighter and some gasoline,
Drenched my clothing, the stench was so obscene
I was fire, I was fire, for a moment
I was tired, I was tired, but then I woke up
And dropped the lighter.
I stopped and then hit the floor
And then I rolled and, rolled and rolled and
Never stopped till the fire
Was finally out but...
I'm still lonely, I'm still burning,
I'm still fiery, I'm still swollen,
I'm still kidnapped by own self,
I'm still holed up in some hotel (it's in nowhere, it's in nowhere).
I'm a lost cause, I'm a lost soul,
I'm a historian's big dream,
I have my past, written on me
With a switchblade and burns from gasoline...
I'm a lost cause, I'm a lost soul,
I'm a historian's big dream,
I have my past, written on me
With a switchblade and burns from gasoline...
You better strut your stuff, strut your stuff!
But I don't got none, I don't have anything,
I just have scars, and shattered memories...
It was a pastime, but not the best time,
I spent in an isolated bathroom,
Not at my house, not at anyone's
Just in hell yeah, just in nowhere.
I was lonely, I was burning,
I was fiery, I was swollen,
I was kidnapped, by my own self,
I was holed up in a motel (in nowhere else, in nowhere else).
Locked the door, both to the front
And to the bathroom and I pulled out
My switchblade, six inches in length,
And I sliced at, and I sliced at
All the skin on, on my right side.
I was lonely, I was burning
I was fiery, I was swollen,
I was kidnapped, by my own self,
I was holed up in a motel (in nowhere else, in nowhere else).
I took a lighter and some gasoline,
Drenched my clothing, the stench was so obscene
I was fire, I was fire, for a moment
I was tired, I was tired, but then I woke up
And dropped the lighter.
I stopped and then hit the floor
And then I rolled and, rolled and rolled and
Never stopped till the fire
Was finally out but...
I'm still lonely, I'm still burning,
I'm still fiery, I'm still swollen,
I'm still kidnapped by own self,
I'm still holed up in some hotel (it's in nowhere, it's in nowhere).
I'm a lost cause, I'm a lost soul,
I'm a historian's big dream,
I have my past, written on me
With a switchblade and burns from gasoline...
I'm a lost cause, I'm a lost soul,
I'm a historian's big dream,
I have my past, written on me
With a switchblade and burns from gasoline...