Cynical Skin

Talk candy in my ear
Come on, come on
I want your toxic talk sick baby
I know those gospel lips can change me

Look to the right of me, okay?
We got exhibit "A"
She, she ain't okay today
And to the left, the left of me
We got exhibit "B"
Oh, she's a mess, to say the least
She's got her daddy's money, money, money

Honey, I think you should run
Run

Look, oh, look around
You're lost but never found, no
Six feet below the ground
Where you avoid your problems

Look right in front of me
We got exhibit "C"
Anorexic
Obsessed with magazines
And when I look over here
Oh my god, that's me in the mirror
No, no, no, ladies and gentlemen
This is my fear, my eyes and ears

Honey, I think you should run
Run

Look, oh, look around
You're lost but never found, no
Six feet below the ground
Where you avoid your problems

Look, oh, look around
You're lost but never found, no
Six feet below the ground
Where you will never solve them

(I know you don't wanna hear this, but just listen)
The last contendent
Bad for us, bad for you
This capillary root
Could root up all the little
Puzzle pieces of what you've been through

You hair all up in knots
Don't ever say you're not
Oh, just a nothing
'Cause I swear downstairs you're something

That's egotistic, cynical
I'm getting out of control
Out of control
Out of control

Look, oh, look around
You're lost but never found, no
Six feet below the ground
Where you avoid your problems

Look, oh, look around
You're lost but never found, no
Six feet below the ground
Where you will never solve them

Look, oh, look around
You're lost but never found, no
Six feet below the ground
Where you avoid your problems

Out of control
I've got control



Credits
Writer(s): Erik Ron, Joel Faviere, Johnny Braddock, Bradley Iverson, Daniel Juarez
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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