Sweetest Cure

(альбом: Old Tyme Religion - 2011)

I wanna find peace in my own skin
In my own skin
Breathe out, breathe in

Thinking of your eyes,
Promises you gave
Promises you gave
We're doomed, not saved.

Now cut to commercial
Just cut to commercial

What the hell am I s'posed to do
Choose a world over you
I'm afraid I'm just too small
I think I'd be no use at all.

Word's out, so how,
You're the sweetest cure
I never got to tell you.

Lost in the tide of sex and death
Of sex and death,
Your hair, your hair.

I want you again,
Don't wanna be your friend
I wanna be a door,
Not a voyeur

Now cut to commercial.
Just cut to commercial.

What the hell am I s'posed to be
Choose a world over me
Sitting pretty in my mess
On the phone I can't confess

Word's out, so how
You're the sweetest cure
I never got to tell you.

Word's out, so how
You're the sweetest cure
I never got to tell you.

My doll,
Pure heart
Turn the tables and
Push it out and watch me slowly break.

Sweetest cure,
I never got to taste.

Sweetest cure,
I'll never taste.