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Pain
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Broken arms, I would hold you Even if I had broken arms. Can you make a tourniquet for a broken heart? A bad idea? Well I suppose it’s up to me to juxtapose myself. There’s little guys with little guns Inside our mouths, inside our heads, They make us suffer.
I’ll stay home, it’s a good thing I think I’m funny. Don’t come by, I’ll be making jokes about you. But then again, you could come in. We could make fun of all the things we used to yesterday. I’ve got a five, you’ve got a ten, That’s fifteen dollars, we could see how long it takes to spend.
You like games that drive us both insane And I roll the dice but that’s just to be nice to you. Why don’t we try something else for a change? Hey, I know! Why don’t I poke out my eyes for you over and over And over and over again?
Get out of my house! And can I come with you? ‘Cuz where there’s a will there’s a way We can kill all the midgets with guns That we have on our tongues Just stick out your lips, lean in close, and we’ll kiss them Goodbye to the midgets with guns.
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Pain
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Midgets With Guns
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