saying goodbye to all my oh-so-security

i'm back to sqaure one, maybe negative fifteen

in record time it's gone

no more biting my nails or crossing my

the spilt milk's dried up

i'm so tired of crying for you



when i am twenty-five will i be still alive

cause i won't be getting any when i'm twenty-one

this magma chamber is expanding

ready to burst



self-perpetuating negativity

it feeds on us we can't control it, baby

volcanic problems arise

don't you dare give up on me tonight

cause i might lose my mind

but i'll hold on to you tightly



will you help me sweep up all of this debris

far be it from me to deny you what you need