The Smoke And The Sounds Songtext

i'm running forward with an awkward sense of direction
about forty digits separate me from connection

i've lost the need to impress
but not the fear of rejection
when i dont care enough
but would still like to get some.

there are three prospects that steal my attention
and one i wish i could talk to
but the hunters always come in first
because they can fake affection.
bitches love that!

i am overwhelmed by self judgement
familiar with disappointment
i'm an unlubricated machine
its either die or start coming clean.

we drove through streets with rolling green hills and asked what its like to be normal. i crept along, lied through my teeth,
and i always felt so immoral.
we seemed so important
but we felt so dull
in a world to fit in,
neurosis:

CAST ME STILL!

chorus
chorus