Driven conversations, even I can read Wouldn't want to fake it, I'm tired of this dream Taking medications, in the back of the room Driven conversations, died in June.
See the stab wounds in his hands See him dying in his room He's dying in his room He's dying in his room for me, heading this way He is coming, I don't care
Wouldn't want fake it, well I don't mind Giving conversations to a friend of mine Giving in a lighted room Wouldn't want to fake it, I know I should
See the stab wounds in his hands You killed him, I care Keep a promise, you would too Keep a promise, even See the silence in his head He is coming, I don't care
We're not gonna make it, well I don't mind Wouldn't want to fake it, but I have this time Giving conversations, to whom don't know medications till my stomach's full.
See a famine in his head See him coming at their heels He loves you, give him a chance don't love him, I don't care See him starving, give him hell It is over, we don't care