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Grumble Bee
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Sky Writer
I'm faced with regret, all of my body's in stone,
I'm maced with truth to try.
But I don't really feel a thing, I don't really feel a thing at all.
I hope you know, that none of this was personal.
I wrote it down and choked it up, it riddled me out of my soul.
When I say I don't feel a thing, well I feel it all.
I'm broken don't you know, how it feels to be this cold?
When I let this tied up tow-rope go, it tore my head apart,
to watch this distance grow.
All... I... can... do...
(All I can do, All I can say)
Is... Lie... to. you...
(I don't feel, I don't feel, no. No.)
I hope you know, that none of this was personal
I wrote it down and choked it up, it riddled me out of my soul
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When I say I don't feel a thing, well I feel it all.
(Bridge)
Oh darling, I wish I could let you down.
The way I let them go, but something's have to change.
Like escaping my mind, from all consciousness.
Although the faults are mine, it's you who's lying in this bed.
This weakness... I fell in and out of control.
What a selfish soul I am, I know, I know, I know.
'Cause I won't ask for your forgiveness.
(Bridge 2)
I've been having visions of this constant competition.
Posing shadowed premonitions, perfectly positioned.
Always reminiscent of a picture, I would die to kill - it's fiction.
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