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Burn After Writing - The Menzingers
Here's to you the same chords that I stole
From a song that I once heard
The same melody I borrowed from the void
I'd rather observe than structure a narrative
The characters are thin the plot does not develop
It ends where it begins
It's on the screen in paperbacks
In section eight and cul-de-sacs
Electro haikus and drunk sonnets
Are moving me along along
You cut my hair
You left red ink everywhere
Do my hands tell a story
Is it boring
You cut my hair
You left red ink everywhere
Do my hands tell a story
Is it boring yo
What I'd give to force your sigh
What I'd give to see you cry
What I'd give for your caress
To see your blue cotton dress
Balled up on the floor
Certain memories are the problem
Certain drunken lines are the shame
Seven hundred miles and four years
I can't fight the flame it burns
It burns it burns it burns
You cut my hair
You left red ink everywhere
Do my hands tell a story
Is it boring
You cut my hair
You left red ink everywhere
Do my hands tell a story
Is it boring yo
Was I wishing on satellites
Tell me how you've been doing that trick
I'm just wishing the flame away
Now I'm wishing the flame away
