Counting ticks from the clock It's a morning too modest She's finding parts of my face Funny looking and anxious It's a cruel world before the eyes of these posh innocents I would use her to stay alive if the ground were to bend And baby pulls her hair for a Vicodin She falls flat on the bed again Mutters something about the end While covering her eyes with both her hands I, on the other hand I feel fine with the way I am I awoke to her elegance I’ve figured out a way to make amends ”Could you cut open all of my chest? I'm already too restless Of course I'm feeling depressed Find a way we could use it” It's a cruel world before the eyes of these posh innocents I would use her to stay alive if the ground were to bend And baby pulls her hair for a Vicodin She falls flat on the bed again Mutters something about the end While covering her eyes with both her hands I, on the other hand I feel fine with the way I am I awoke to her elegance I’ve figured out a way to make amends My my my We’re pretenders We’re beaming We’re the signs of our time My my Oh whatever And baby pulls her hair for a Vicodin She falls flat on the bed again Mutters something about the end While covering her eyes with both her hands I, on the other hand I feel fine with the way I am I awoke to her elegance I’ve figured out a way to make amends