Bob Mould
Terms of Psychic Warfare
Well, I see you walking down the road
And the thoughts within my mind explode
But having to hold back taught me a lot about control
And letting all loose at once when it was time to let you know
You occupied my space and you occupied your mind
By jumping off the roof to the first conclusion you can find
Now all the silver you can steal
Can't buy a piece of what I feel
It's sad, but the means, they just don't justify the ends
To be forever haunted by the ghosts of all your friends
Painful, yeah, that's the way you've chosen it to be
C'mon, babe, can't you think of anyone besides me?
These are the terms!
Now don't think you're the only one who has harboured a self-hate
I'm just as guilty of selling what my own sweet soul creates
Now don't feel bad the next time my memory comes creepin'
You've got your own bed now, I suggest that's the one you sleep in
Goodnight, baby! Ow!