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Blueline Medic

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Blueline Medic

Up Against The Fault

No call this morning
No sleep at all
Not getting any answers searching through telephones
Oh absence, take form
Half cold in a king size dawn
Breaking still despite the holding on

Someone tell me, what am I doing wrong?

Clothes I can throw away
Hair I can cut, strip or stain
Moods I promise to turn like corners and get out of my own way
But on what chance can this stand?
With what, half a heart in some desperate plan
I don't know who it is I'm up against

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Someone tell me, where am I going wrong?

You're keeping me close and against and I think to a fault
I'll have to do something

Each blazing morning
Burns a little slow
Is there something need telling?
Some good that I'm not doing?
Provide some helpful point upon which I could fall
Or don't suggest anything
It's probably nothing

It's nothing if no one can see that there's anything wrong