My Cons Are Making A Cripple Out Of Me

 

 

Headlights pass again and again

I’m going under

He’s not too sure if you are a friend

So he’s charging by the hour

 

Too trying to think about

The beds I’ve made that I’m lying in now

 

Circular reality

 

A certain stillness in motion

Hold my wet towel body down

I’m going under

Bones are grinding cold in this deadpan town

 

My souls are wearing thin

And troubled water is seeping in

 

But I’ll wave at you from my parade

In this circular reality

As I travel ‘round this singular state

My cons are making a cripple out of me

 

I’ll watch your smile

And your colours fade

 

But I’ll wave at you from my parade

Yes, I’ll wave at you from my parade

In this circular reality

As I travel ‘round this singular state

My cons are making a cripple out of me

I’ll watch your smile

And your colours fade