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Twisted Tongue

de Matt Maeson

Half of the decade trying to cope
More that I injure sparser the hope
So pry up the tiles and gut out the floors
Find the foundation’s not safe anymore

After the Lord speaks, baby, take me where the crowd don’t run
And I’ll find my shadow waiting
Filthy with a twisted tongue
And I’ll hide everything in my head
And forget everyone that I met
And I’ll never be open again
Oh, how good it must feel to not love anything

Half of the decade caught in a rope
Fashion the headache, I’ll be the host

After the Lord speaks, baby, take me where the crowd don’t run
And I’ll find my shadow waiting
Filthy with a twisted tongue
And I’ll hide everything in my head
And forget everyone that I met
And I’ll never be open again
Oh, how good it must feel to not love anything
Oh, how good it must feel to not love anything
Oh, how good it must feel to not love anything

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