Elliott Smith on a Glue Trap

The tone of your voice
Is enough to make me paralyzed
It doesn't seem fair
When I think of all of the times
That I tried to relax and
Let jealousy and fear slip away
Still I get stopped in my tracks
By the sound of whatever you say

Elliot Smith on a glue trap
Is trying to pull himself free
And then sing you a sad song
Elliot Smith on a glue trap
Is trying to lift up his limbs
And then point out the obvious
I've heard his records played over and over again
'cause you made me listen to them
So I know, I know, I know what he's going to do
But with you, with you, with you... I have no fucking clue

I've heard the voice
Of freshly dead men sing so sweet
They sang for you before they died -
Every syllable has been crystallized
They bring you joy
But to me they are ghosts in the air
When I lie in your bed
I wonder what the hell I'm doing there

Elliot Smith on a glue trap
Is trying to pull himself free
And then sing you a sad song
Elliot Smith on a glue trap
Is trying to lift up his limbs
And then point out the obvious
He gave up - he's not twitching too much - but I know
Soon he'll be crying - not moving's inspiring
I know, I know, I know what he's going to do
But with you, with you, with you... I have no fucking clue

I know, I know, I know what he's going to do
But with you, with you, with you... I have no fucking clue

Elliot Smith on a glue trap
Is trying

To pull himself free
And then sing you a sad song

Elliot Smith on a glue trap
Is trying

To lift up his limbs
And then point out the obvious

Elliot Smith on a glue trap
Elliot Smith on a glue trap
Elliot Smith on a glue trap is trying
Elliot Smith on a glue trap is trying to
Elliot Smith on a glue trap is trying to pull himself free
And then sing you a sad song

I've heard his records played over and over again
'cause you made me listen to them