Clothes crawling on the floor
Drawing pictures on my wall
Laying sheets on my streets
Dying high
Hands reaching out for more
Villains washing up ashore
Drowning
beads by my feet Dying high
Blue blisters in my trace Shining on me with disgrace
Telling tales of a place Where I faced on your face
Navigating from your room Singing on your broken show
I inhale all this taste
Breathing out the door
I can't believe you get fooled so easily
You really need to try and turn me on
Turn it up 180 degrees
Arms with nowhere to go Painting the way to the show
Washing tricks, cover breaks Dying high
I really saw myself You're just a cover in my intent
Spreading seeds by my deeds Just a place you can turn
I can't believe you get fooled so easily You
really need to try and turn it up 180 degrees
I can't believe you get fooled so easily You
really need to try and turn it up 180 degrees
180 degrees