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Waxahatchee
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Sister Saint
Weak knees, fuck your sympathy.
I'll be my own best friend.
She prays as the radio plays
'I See A Bad Moon Rising..' again.
Foretold, she lives on hold.
What is she trying to save me from?
Blindspot in the adjacent lot,
waiting for my time to come.
I won't wait in this line.
I've got nothing left in me.
My weight on your shifting spine.
I fuck up and you fabricate me.
Gray days on paper plates,
our vibrations collide.
Arcane, sister's a saint.
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She sets herself aside.
Pitfall, publish, appall,
I fall down right in the street.
You blow smoke, you sugarcoat,
then you take a front row seat.
And I think I've had enough.
I'm not listening to it.
Lay all of your cards on the table.
I know that you'd take every bit.
I won't wait in this line.
Sooner or later it goes awry.
And you live your life like a chore
and I'm not listening anymore.
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