From the story that you told
You're both incredibly spiteful
And far too delicate to hold
It's not so terrible a bison
And until you start to lose
I'm staring through the door
I thought that you might spit
Through your joyless grin
But still you're staring quite the same
We haven't spoken for an hour
Shit, I thought you'd wanna know
Cause you weren't far called
Cause the dark sleeps sound
Since the fire's took top
straight out of fucking town
I saw the portrait of a broken man
I didn't learn anything to sell
Another day spent high as hell having sick
Serious conversations with myself
Inventing complicated plans
Involving you and me and several people
Who probably wouldn't know
Or even care to, if you did so
Since I'm afraid of all the versions of me
that live inside your head
Is it a symptom or a blessing
Do I've convinced yourself
Should I just ride the road
Pretending nothing's wrong?