We're the boys jailed in a horse's skull.
We nailed our ears to a feral glittery drone.
The only thing that makes our blood feel like blood
Is stealing cars and watching lightning bolts fuck.
So don't look away, every day's the same,
Every song's the same in this sanitized exploding airplane.
Well I got shot in the face, it's all on videotape
So come on, watch the blood, it's pouring commercial-free
Well I got shot in the face, it's all on videotape
So come on, watch the blood, it's pouring commercial-free
We're the girls chewing styrofoam
Pulling our wigs under a monochrome glow.
The only line that's talking us into bed
Is the freeway's static hiss drilling holes in our heads, so
So don't look away from the clouds leaking rust
The kingdom of heaven reeks of burning witches and dust.
Well I got shot in the face, it's all on videotape
So come on, watch the blood, it's pouring commercial-free
Well I got shot in the face, it's all on videotape
So come on, watch the blood, it's pouring commercial-free
Seven items dripped out the back of my head:
One big war and one color red;
One vulgar leg and one designer tree;
Two stallions and a pound of confetti.
Oh, salvation!
Hollow lightning, so skeletal...
Shipwrecked freeways!
Concrete ribcage, so boring...
Oh, salvation!
Hollow lightning, so skeletal
Shipwrecked freeways!
Well I got shot in the face, it's all on videotape
So come on, watch the blood, it's pouring commercial-free
Well I got shot in the face, it's all on videotape
So come on, watch the blood, it's pouring commercial-free
We ride skeletal lightning, vacant as a womb that's miscarried

Copyright: MOTHERSHIP MUSIC PUBLISHING
Writer(s): CODY VOTOLATO, JOHN WHITNEY, JORDAN BLILIE, MARK SUNIL GAJADHAR, MORGAN HENDERSON