From One To Six Hundred Kilometers

The most tender thing you've said to me

Is that I suffer from paranoia

Sometimes, when I wish to kill

I count from one to six hundred kilometres

Yet I fail to feel

I sail to sea

I fail to behave rationally

And I fail to grip

I fail to keep

I fail to think about me

If I were able to hate

Perhaps hatred would bring me relief

I ought to have a steel brow

And heart of stone

Yet you failed to feel

You sailed to sea

You failed embrace my insecurities

And I failed to grip

I failed to keep

I failed to think about me

I failed to think about me

Yeah

Me-yeah

Yet I fail to feel

I sail to sea

I fail to behave rationally

And you fail to grip

You fail to keep

You fail to think about me