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Blaenavon (band)( Blaenavon )
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That's Your Lot
Elizabeth, you said we'd walk amongst the dead
On Halloween
But my make-up's making no one scream
I'm stapled to the ground
You watch me squirming
I'm an apathetic earthworm
Isabella, my child, your hips, they make me wild
But I'm sure you'll understand
That I'm part cloth and part man
This collar makes me choke
But I'd rather that than rope
Or a trust fund
I'm an apathetic eardrum
But it's so easy to be this
sentimentally gifted
I feel guilt's hot breath on my neck
But I can't throw away, throw away
The reminders of those brilliant days
No kiss, no collapse
If you think that it holds you back
Pity me, I beg you please
I might not ask again next week
Pity me, I beg you please
I might not ask again next week
Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com
I'm an apathetic pipsqueak
But it's so easy to be this
sentimentally gifted
I feel guilt's hot breath on my neck
It reeks of death
But I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love
I'm in luck
I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love
With the theory your father might be up above
As the Lord
But I can't throw away
The reminders of those brilliant days
A stamp, a receipt
If it feels like it keeps you here
It's only been three years
It's only been three years
It's only been three years
It's only been three years
It's only been three years
It's only been three years
It's only been three years
And that's your lot
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