Ratted out just like your sundried dress
It's a little late [?]
My conscience is strong with my weak gut
You'll have to show me the way
You said run on, come back with your own gun
Cold hands as you're walking upstairs with your mouth closed
I can see it in your eyes though
Saying like I don't know
Tongue-tied as you're sitting in the corner with your white lies
If I could frame it with the dim light
We'd be the painting of a dark sky
All the [?] just like the sight and the sound
'Cause the wind don't last, I said wake up and look at the damp ground
You'll realize you're wrong with the disgust
And further away you'll just write down everything you've done wrong
Cold hands as you're walking upstairs with your mouth closed
I can see it in your eyes though
Saying like I don't know
Tongue-tied as you're sitting in the corner with your white lies
If I could frame it with the dim light
We'd be the painting of a dark sky
Oh