weak knees fuck your sympathy i ll be my own best friend she prays as the radio plays i see a bad moon rising again foretold she lives on hold what is she trying to save me from blind spot in the adjacent lot waiting for my time to come i won t wait in this line i ve got nothing left in me my weight on your shifting spine i fuck up and you fabricate me gray days on paper plates our vibrations collide arcane sister s a saint she sets herself aside pitfall publish appall i fall down right in the street you blow smoke you sugarcoat then you take a front row seat and i think i ve had enough i m not listening to it lay all of your cards on the table and i know you d take every bit i won t wait in this line sooner or later it goes awry you live your life like a chore and i m not listening anymore