Rattle

Slip a finger behind a crinkled page
Should know to stop when I'm ahead from the master-room rage
I read "don't bite the hand that feeds"
Or I'll just stare seeing red at the hand before me

As my bones rattle
Mind on the ladder
Before and after my eyes
Give a man venison
Betray his kin, and
Of these stabbed backs, which one cries
My hate really should be more cold
My hate really should be more cold

But shouldn't you get your shot at the real thing
Or is true love just a murder trial with no firm lead
Love and effort, returned so weak
Got you a shitty metallic frame from Hobby Lobby

As my bones rattle
Mind on the ladder
Before and after my eyes
Give a man venison
Betray his kin, and
Of these stabbed backs, which one cries
My hate really should be more cold
My hate really should be more cold
My hate should be more cold
My hate should be more cold

I wish I could eat my eyes
Digest malice has always been my way
Fallen close to Northern Spy
I spend everyday rolling me away
I still feel your thumbs like lice
I see Wrigley and I hear the PA
Boy, confession would be nice
Rest these thoughts running since 2008

Cold
Cold
My hate should be more cold



Credits
Writer(s): Jared Campbell
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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