On the drive home I get a phone call
From this girl who keeps crawling around in my mind
Leaving wormholes burrowed deep inside
And turning up at the wrong place and the wrong time.
Well, I can't get over the fact that I ain't over you yet,
And it's getting pathetic that I still sing these songs.
But that's just it, you see, you don't get it.
I broke my back breaking this habit and breathing life into these songs.
The worms in my heart love to s** me dry.
Engorged with sick fantasies of me struggling to survive.
Now I run with the hunted and an arrow through my knee,
But I walk with the swagger of a thousand hipster kings.
If I could just get over the fact that I ain't over you yet,
It wouldn't be pathetic that I still sing these songs.
But that's just it, you see, you don't get it.
I broke my back breaking this habit and breathing life into these songs.
I know it's not fair to say things out of spite
And I know it hurts to hear: "you're just a parasite."
I'm not sorry for that.
You should have warned me from the start
That you'd slither on through my veins and infest my heart.