A wicked decision

we can agree

a wicked decision

nothings wrong with you and me

a week in the forest

I'm weak in the fog

You'll be sad to hear that I was robbed

And we're gonna own this

a face to the voice

and we found the means

to cry as you try on the choice

and decapitation

for failing to see

that nothing in the whole wide world

saves us from this situation



Don't stop talking to me please

baby cut me off a piece of yr nearly blonde hair

throw your heart to the crows not the vultures

cos no one in this failing world can talk us through this situation

We'll speak in the garden

we'll burn down the trees

i'll leave out the teasing

while you are down on one knee

And never is heavy and heavy is fine

But owning the streets meant you ate your words raw this time

It's wicked where you tread they shot an arrow in your head

since the apple wasn't there yeah

ripped apart by the crows and the vultures

Ignore me in the parking lot

I'm petrified by conversation.