Traded my creative whim
For a level head and a phantom limb
You know chamomile
Is sweeter when the sky is blushing too

Tell me have you ever thought
Of leavin' your boys behind?
I've got no concept of a savior
There's nothing I could do
Nothin' I could do

There's somethin' strange inside me
Diggin' holes with house keys
I've grown vulgar, vacant, and angry
So patient