In my hands white knuckled
Nose plugged, knees buckled
In my health know nothing
And by sickness to know sweet health
In your cold dark shade I stand for nothing
Then I find sun and I just lie around
I sweep your dust all up into a small pile
And kick it up so that it's scattered well
Clipping the dead petals, feet on the desk
Oiling my dead hair and rouging my sex
I've chosen I want you to want me instead
I'm tired by the time that I spend in my bed
In my hands white knuckled
Nose plugged, knees buckled
In my health know nothing
And by sickness to know sweet health
In your cold dark shade I stand for nothing
Then I find sun and I just lie around
I sweep your dust all up into a small pile
And kick it up so that it's scattered well
Clipping the dead petals, feet on the desk
Oiling my dead hair and rouging my sex
I've chosen I want you to want me instead
I'm tired by the time that I spend in my bed
