Drive
The coffee's burnt
The window's cracked and I'm cold
But you're still dreaming
Wrapped in sheets that used to cover us both
You doctored the cure
Trying to separate skin from the bone
What hope is winning
When the reward is the beautiful queen in a cage?
The Kazakh girl's a gypsy heart
The fairy tales she'll chase are all the same lies
Wake up, no one's at the wheel
Covered in sweat
The autopsy of a bathroom scream
Is filled with ten year cuts and bruises
I don't have the pills to forget
So you lay on my bed
Full of intent and no punctuation
A boxer punching in the dark
What are you hitting? It's you, not me
The Kazakh girl's a gypsy heart
The rabbit's dragged her back into his hole
Wake up, no one's at the wheel
Begin your love at the beginning
Go 'til you hit the end, then stop
My twisted match
Reincarnationists can't remember their name
And you smiled sweetly:
"Chomsky just called; he'll deliver his speech for a fee"
So after the stars
Under a tired sun, I'll be king
And melt in your arms with nothing to lose
Nothing to show for the pain, again
