Warning Sign

I work up to write you a letter to tell you everything
To tell you everything
But I sent it to the back of my head as a warning sign
As a warning sign

I've been thinking over would I ever want it any other way?
If it's truth that you're hungover, what's the value in the truth then anyway?

Who am I to say that about your mother?
You're such a precious thing, and why feel so sore?
And what's sticking to the back of your head is the caked up sand of many million years
Everything I think I thought it cuts a corner ties a knot for two
And my mind is always changing, and what's changing changes what I think is true

We're calling out a number
Is it three-six-five?
We're counting out the ways
I feel alive
We're painting a pretty picture
We're calling this a friend



Credits
Writer(s): Steve Tarkington
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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