Blackjack

Tears cut through the powder, let it—
Sick and tired, can't stop waiting
I'll turn into nothing, help me
Help me, keeping score

Hide all your cards, someone's watching what you do
Breathe through your nose, only way to keep your cool
Open your wounds in the quiet of your room (yeah)
It's the end of the drought

Tears cut through the powder, let it run
I'll patch it up inside the dressing room
Fucking sick and tired of playing the put-together girl who knows her roots
I'll turn into nothing, nothing
Help me fight it if you think I'm worth the war
Is there even anybody keeping score?

So go ahead, go ahead, ask her how she's doing
She's hiding in the cubicles at work if that's a clue
And reading into everything you do
Only feel the love when she's in the mood
If I lie to my heart, it will found out
Find a way to tie me down
Then it will turn me inside-out
Don't wanna hear no fears, no doubts
But I'm thinking way too loud
Don't know how, tell me how to get out

Tears cut through the powder, let it run
I'll patch it up inside the dressing room
Fucking sick and tired of playing the put-together girl who knows her roots
I'll turn into nothing, nothing
Help me fight it if you think I'm worth the war
Is there even anybody keeping score?