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