Kurt Travis
Burning Down the Nicotine Armoire, Pt. 2
[Verse 1: Jon Mess]
Still grinding teeth, trying to follow you home
I’ll stop the world, cause this plan is slow
Wait across the street in the parking lot
The tree is dead, the front door is locked
The moments I framed have cracked and crumbled
Grabbed us by the throat, then I choked and stumbled
This will never work, this will never work
Check my pulse as I swallow dirt
[Verse 2: Kurt Travis]
I’m cutting myself with my own morals
I never meant to write about you
(I never meant to write about you)
The one contact that I loved so much
But passing my own heart, what could possibly be within?
[Chorus: Kurt Travis, Jon Mess]
Do you think about your actions?
Do you ever wonder what the consequences are?
Your licensed M. Bison got stabbed with a five dollar syringe
Oh, the dullness of existence
Your licensed M. Bison got stabbed with a five dollar syringe
Oh, the dullness of existence
I’m dressed in white, shine so bright, hair so tight
[Verse 3: Kurt Travis]
And I have no sympathy for this
He needs somebody else to leech off of
(Somebody else to leech off of)
The one contact that I loved so much
But passing my own heart, what could possibly be within?
[Chorus: Kurt Travis, Jon Mess]
Do you think about your actions?
Do you ever wonder what the consequences are?
Your licensed M. Bison got stabbed with a five dollar syringe
Oh, the dullness of existence
Your licensed M. Bison got stabbed with a five dollar syringe
Oh, the dullness of existence
[Breakdown: Jon Mess]
Prescribed the throat, I need the antidote, it's fucking mind over matter
Prescribed the throat, I need the antidote, it's fucking mind over matter
Prescribed the throat, I need the antidote, it's fucking mind over matter
Prescribed the throat, I need the antidote, it's fucking mind over matter
[Bridge: Kurt Travis]
My concepts are rested and manifest in ways you can’t forget
My concepts are rested and manifest in ways you can’t forget
My concepts are rested
[Outro: Jon Mess, Kurt Travis]
If you're gonna wear the uniform you better sell the cookies
(My concepts are rested)
Don't come to my house asking for a handout
If you're gonna wear the uniform, sell the fucking cookies
(My concepts are rested)
Don't come to my house