Tiger,
you said I would always be
safe
wrapped in your arms;
locked in you like a snare.
It's not your fault.
But there is something wrong.
It's in my brain and my blood, and
i try and try and try
but all i do is wrong, wrong, wrong.
Wrong enough that the room is a
cyclone.
Wrong enough that I can't focus,
can't sleep, can't close my eyes,
can't think, can't can't can't.
I cut the moon in half
And stuck a piece to my hair
It made the back of my head glow. |
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