Fiending, peeking at the centrefolds
Cutting tinsel into gold
And hoping you won't love me still
Mellow, cringy ugly fellows
Mixing water into gin
And chasing it with cinnamon
Oh my God, kingdom wants me
Marksman, shooting apples off of heads
Jonesing for a cigarette
With loppy shots on purpose
Keeping tabs on all my scrimmages
And crossing out my closest friends
For someone I can't recognize
Oh my God, kingdom wants me
Don't call it a ghost to my own
God, I have a pretty life
It made me cry