I'd Rather Be With Them

Stale tongues, the words have gone And all we've left is smoky spit and heavy lungs And I don't want to talk it through But my head hurts and I hate you So make me throw up I know that you will And wake up my mother and tell her I'm ill It's all coming out now, black, brown Wine and bile Salty eyes, some frothy lips Your teeth are bent and champing at the fucking bit Leaning on the window Will you point them and you let go You say: "look at the people Crawling like insects All over the pavements" I'd rather be with them 'Cause I just hate this room, it smells like you Leave it on, I like this song When it ends, you really must be getting on And they needle all clicks after I'm out And you look back and the door slams I'm so fucking heartless I can't even cry I've opened my body it's hollow inside So ring up my parents And tell them I'm dead And say how you bit me and fucked with my head And I just hate your head And the clothes you wear And I just love your head And the clothes you wear