Slept in your room With your friends on the inside Needed some air So I slept on the outside Down on the couch With your boyfriend I need this The smell of his hair And the taste of his lips I hide in the closet But I'm not a faggot My friends never found out My mom was a Christian My dad is an alchie I bet that he kills me I don't know how God thinks But God, do you love me? I don't know how God thinks But God, do you love me? I don't know how God thinks But God, do you love? She says I need a certain satisfaction kind It's something you could never give to my type She said I need a certain satisfaction kind It's something you could never give to my To my, to my Woah-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh Woah-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh Woah-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh (hey!) Woah-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh Woah-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh Woah-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh Woah-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh (hey!) Woah-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh Just string me up, two or three Just string me up, down by the trees Just burn my pants, I'm such a freak A fucking faggot that never sees Just string me up, to retreat Just string me up, down by the trees Just burn my pants, I'm such a freak I'm such a freak, I'm such a freak She says I need a certain satisfaction kind It's something you could never give to my type She said I need a certain satisfaction kind It's something you could never give to my To my, to my To my, to my To my, to yours To my, to my To my, to yours Woah-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh Woah-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh Woah-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh (hey!) Woah-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh Fuck!

Sunflower broke, stem is bent at an angle If good boys smoke good drugs, then, consider me an angel Snap-back forward, tree house of horrors Deal drugs to your kids and your parents pay for it Disconnected families with cell phones at dinner Teachers, mum, dad, God are all mad at the sinner Draw pictures in my notebook, when I'm supposed to be learning Pop a Xanax before class to keep my thoughts from hurting Write a suicide note when I get home, wishing you all goodbye If I am a ghost now, then, why still can't I fly? Always stare out my window and wish I were somewhere else My depression likes to put my dreams on the shelf Am I not cool like the other bands, because I don't write about love? Art is supposed to scare you, and I've got blood in my lungs I'm not sad, but I'm not exactly happy yet either Unless I live forever, I have to keep writing this shit My biggest fear is that I will be forgotten The grass will grow over my gravestone and nobody will bother You know the beautiful thoughts that you always think? Nobody will hear them (hear them) again And I will never be your alibi And I will never be your alibi And I will never be your alibi And I will never be your alibi And I will never be your alibi And I will never be your alibi And I will never be your alibi And I will never be your alibi