Hanging round the romance section only
for hours
It seems we found a different route to hell
for us
not o become the morons that we deal with
all day
We've made a pack to stay true to ourselves
but panicked
We've got no grip, got no clue, got no golden ticket
Floating round this clutter like we've lost all gravity
Just hoping for some crutch and some depravity
Come on Phil, who wants an easy lover
for real?
We need someone to show us through the mess
we made
Now meet your fate, meet your phantom, meet your
true reflection
Floating round this clutter like we've lost all gravity
Just hoping for some crutch and some depravity