here comes another sleepy story of the brokenhearted

that we can't tell because we don't know

that joke died before the laughter started

but killed the audience on the way home

​

we were a channel built from failed connections

a shadow hidden where our heart should be

we were candidates picked from rigged elections

a ticker-tape parade on a ruined street

​

we held on as long as we could

why not call it quits, if we know we should?

​

CHORUS

why don't you throw me down the well, if you've had enough?

i can sleep just fine in the fire below

why don't you take the widest road to the nearest south?

and pick me up when you're ready to go

​

pull my threads

clutch my clothes

turn me out

steal my soul

​

what can i say she had that quinta essentia 

that over-proof breath

old bones blackened by white cigarettes

caught her a' wilding on the burning sands

held her in my grip like a toothache in my hand 

​

you got what you want

hold my flag aloft

pawn my blood and buy my honor back to show it off

second line weave through cimetière des hérétiques

our ship has sailed, but worse things happen at sea

​

at least the road to hell is paved

we'll ride in style as we make our way

​

CHORUS

​

changed my mind

wheel me round

rob me blind

throw me down