Twisted Tongue

Half of the decade
Trying to cope
More that I injure
The sparser the hope
So pry up the tile
And gut out the floor
Find the foundation's
Not safe anymore

And 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 (half the decade)
Caught in a rope (caught, caught in a rope)
Fashion the headache (fashion the headache)
I'll be the host (I'll be the host)

And 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