Choke on a crooked breath

in a dope nose delirium

you got a fragile face in a public place

we walk through the night to get it right 

to have a confession

got a pen in my hand

got a girl in my head

got crumbling teeth 

i got dirty sheets

i walk through the night 

with a thorn in my side 

and with no connection



the days just roll by

and the songs write themselves

like little bombs they just blow up

friendly fire that shoots itself



this is the house that you’re from

and that is how far you’ve come

i know why you left 

i think it’s best you get far away 

and set it to flames



the days just roll by

and the songs write themselves

like little bombs they just blow up 



friendly fire that shoots itself



and the days just roll by

the songs write themselves

like little bombs they just blow up

friendly fire that shoots itself