Poor Posture

"It's all done, take off your mask"

She wrote on the paper left on the table

Like she new me well enough to say that

I can't swallow my pride

I'm a coward by instinct

As a matter of fact, I'm just a child with a temper

The fire of December

Burning everything with every chance I get



And I hope you forget the name of every boy you sleep with

And you run out of excuses for it

So tell yourself you're fine

And it's the world's fault you're so upset

Knot that thread you call a spine



But you're so selfish and content with

Ot mending all your flaws

So excuse it and abuse it

And ay who your born is who you are

So say its your destiny

To grow old and alone

And push away everyone and everything



And I hope you forget the name of every boy you sleep with

And you run out of excuses for it

So tell yourself you're fine

And it's the world's fault you're so upset

Knot that thread you call a spine



And I hope you forget the name of every boy you sleep with

And you run out of excuses for it

So tell yourself you're fine

And it's the world's fault you're so upset

Knot that thread you call a spine