High Chair

It just about time to give up on you

No more thoughts from moving mountains

No more passing out on the banks

Bashing heads while trying to whisper

Comatose from the dead and creeps

It just about time To give up on you

Unless the morning finds you dry

Your heart just spitting blood

Let the sunlight strangle you

No more thoughts from moving mountains

No more passing out in the banks

Bashing heads while trying to whisper

Comatose from the dead and creeps

It just about time to give up on you

Unless the morning finds you dry

Your heart just spitting blood

Let the sunlight strangle you

Rise your glass to the wall

Put your ear to what you lost

Let the silence strangle you