Striking poses for candid throwbacks
Clout-face, love-hungry grins
Dirty laundry in a scented trash bag
Air it out, let it blow in the wind

Out of scope
I see myself in you though
When we're down and out we go out

Wake up dried-up in a wet bed
Two empty fifths and a mouth of chalk
Washed up, torn up, disaffected
My friends don't swim, we float to the top

Femme fatale with a coke-glittered glow
Wear a dress I don't really care
Trade your hat for a pack of Newports
Get depressed, cut off all of your hair

I've kept myself a secret
Made it all so cryptic
I hate myself for it
Can't forgive, can't forget

Can't wear those pants like I used to
Can't yell as loud as I used to yell
I talk shit at flat on the weekends
You give blood then you give up on yourself

You give blood then you give up on yourself
You give blood then you give up on yourself
You give blood then you give up on yourself
You give blood then you give up on yourself

You give blood then you give up on yourself
You give blood then you give up on yourself
You give blood then you give up on yourself
My friends don't swim, we float to the