Tell me a lie
I'll be the first to fall
Give me un-offer, unofferable
Imagine the warmth
In those tiny hands
That held on to a penance,
I didn't deserve
Don't it feel like a knife
In the back of your head
And it reeks like an afterthought
Rotten and said
Maybe something got lost or forgotten instead
I'm bound by a drunk
With a few memories
Of how you burn through your lovers
It's like an ugly disease
And give me un-offer, unofferable
It held on to a penance,
I didn't deserve
And it reeks like an afterthought rotten instead
And maybe something got lost or forgotten and said.