Tenderversion

You look like hell stuck in that chair
Feeling hollow again did you ever care
It’s a pile of air, life rearrange
It’s a tender version whenever you change
You can never fill me up
You stand in the rain with a pair of scissors in your brain
Try not to think of all the people you had to drain
Nobody likes what you’ve done to your hair
But I hate you too much to pretend that I care
You can never fill me up
I keep Mary’s number under my forehead
In dreams I walk with you through a spectre of filth