By My Own Hand

(álbum: Convicts - 2006)

Can you cut that tendon at the back of my hip
I can't run away, my bones congeal
The stakes are simple, shit and bile
But you just don't get it (No, you just don't get it)

You must hook up with me for a year round summer
'Cause when the cold comes, you stay and sit number
But I'm sure ice would melt in your glove
And you just don't get it (No, you just don't get it)

And it just can't hurt any worse than before
Strike a match and bolt the door
You get nothing back 'cause you're gonna go down
By my own hand (By my own hand)
By my own hand (By my own hand) yeah

So I'm one bad gig out of the Jason recliner
One bad song and I'm back at the diner
Yeah, eating your scraps, cleaning your crap
But you just don't get it (You want chips with that?)

I hate your ambition, hell I even hate mine
Makes me holograms and little things and water out of wine
But you won, yeah hon, well fuck it I'm done
And I just don't get it (No, you just don't get it)

And it just can't hurt any worse than before
You get it now, I was nothing more
You get nothing more, you're gonna go down
By my own hand (By my own hand)
By my own hand (By my own hand)

Pills for pills sake (pills for pills sake)
Liquor for God sake (liquor for God sake)
Your trying to fix a shark wound
With a cotton ball, yeah

My own hand (By my own hand)
My own hand (By my own hand)

So get me to the airport and throw me on a plane
Do the sentimental tango and send me off again
I'll bounce right back 'cause I'm gonna go down
By my own hand (By my own hand)
By my own hand (By my own hand) yeah

Bring on the new sound