string machine - television (fifth or exaggerations i bury in 'skeleton') lyrics
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television (fifth or exaggerations i bury in ’skeleton’) lyrics
why is it every hiss we stomach
new years eve
frays from the womb
rattles from the loom
and is plucked by bees?
makes me wanna hit a cop
makes me wanna pop my head off
like sunflowers on the day
of their execution
after giving birth in the front lawn
makes me wanna hit a
(breathe, it’s okay)
makes me wanna pop my head off
(breathe, it’s still okay)
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