Text: Kill Verona. You're Talking To My Guy All Wrong.

broken down, now unlucky
all this misfortune and a couple of drinks.
sends you lying down. turns you insane,
with a heart of gold? or a heart that's cold? or a heart.

violently i'm losing the ability
to leave the world that you have made behind.

and to be nearly missing the mind
that you made up or underrated.
if you had nothing to love or hate
as you're blowing up or all washed up.
all of that seems similar
to being expected or impressive. or plain.

violently i'm losing the ability
to leave the world that you have made behind.
to take the time so soon and to
never be in this world soft and not disguised.
this is what you have to hide.

so can you think about all the many people you gave...
some headache? or some heartache? it all turns out the same.
you are to blame.
i bet your last chance with friendship
is not with something you drink.

i think i'd rather be insane,

violently i'm losing the ability
to leave behind the world that you have made.

to be nearly missed in your mind
and to lye in the things you find.
for a while it all seemed as perfect as your getaway will take you.
so lay in the mess that you made.
and take all the time that you need.