Put my head back on straight,
I'm dizzy and drunk on equilibrium.
Time can't slow down this headache.
It's a monster of it's own kind.
There's no way out.

How can I be so good and so bad at the same time?
Flighty bitch with a halo.
Goodie two shoes with a diva complex.
They hate to love me.
They love to hate me.
Where's the ones who live to love me?
No hero for the seriously misguided.

I've been branded in cliches and bad news.
I'm a mural of what happens when you have no friends.
It goes down the drain faster than you anticipate.
Car cash.
Sunk ship.
Catch me.

Bedhead.

Get away from me.
I'm so sick of you and your cliques.
You're not fun.
Upset stomach in human form.
Quit.

SHUT UP.
I have no patience for you.
I hate pretending that I do.
You make me cry in circles and pull my hair.
I want nothing to do with you.
Here's a five, go buy a clue.

Nothing you could say would change my mind.
I cut you out,
There's no way back in.
I hate you.
I won't even say I'm sorry.
Because I'm not.
Never was.
You tricked me.

Keep me from windows and bridges.
I'd jump if it'd keep me from you.
Nails on a blackboard seem more pleasent than you.
Leave me.

I want him, not you.
Stop the side stepping.
You were a mistake.
Yeah, I said it.
We were an accident of the fatal kind.
Call the coroner to clean up the mess.
This is dead.

bedhead.

Last year I was a cut out paper doll.
This year I'm in technicolor and you can't stand it.
I watch you sputter and choke,
You never fall with grace.
You've made your bed of jealousy.
It's nap time.

Toss back that cocktail and wait.
I'll work the room and you'll wish you still had me.
Sand through your fingers,
That's all I ever was.
You miss me.

I'll wear that red dress you like so much.
When I feed you to the dogs.
I'm not so innocent anymore,
You made sure of that.
You poisioned that little wide-eyed girl.
Now I'm a new kind of lust.

Kiss me one last time,
Before I take off into the world.
I'm running this time.
Running fast and far.
When I run out of breath I know I've made it.
This is me sending you post cards from a new life.
This is our love song of a different texture.


Bedhead.

Hand me a tissue so I can blow out my brains.
17 is very unlucky number,
It's the number my life fell apart at.
I've been ripped at the seams,
But you're no seamstress.
Hot glue gun lover.

Hold up your fingers and let me count to ten.
They told me anger isn't the answer,
But it's all I feel.
I fail.
You fail.
It was only 65 degree sundays
And strawberry icecream summers.
When did we lose?

I'd give all my bad habits and secret sins for you.
I've got it bad enough to call it quits.
Turn out the light.
Turn off my head.
I could be brilliant,
But I'm better at being moronic.
Kiss me clean.

letmepretendwecouldbetogether

With me there are no second chances,
I know timebombs more forgiving.
Forget what could have been.
The script's been published,
And you got wrote out in Act I my friend.
Lost in thought and misguided praise.
I only want to count stars with you.



bedhead.