My Bible Is A Scrapbook

We're rejected, neglected little busy bees

We don't smell right like ageing little bags of meat

I-I-I-I-I-I don't like this taste

But I didn't, didn't, didn't know how to wash it away

Honey why can't you tell

I don't want you around?

Honey why can't you tell?

Leave me out

We are an army; we're looking for a place to fit in

We are angels committing all our pretty sins

I-I-I-I-I-I don't like this waste

But I didn't, didn't, didn't know how to shake it away

We said oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh

We are crawling, collecting little stones in our knees

We are a movement but we will never be a scene

I-I-I-I-I-I don't like this face

But I didn't, didn't, didn't know how to scrape it away

Honey why can't you tell

I don't want you around?

Honey why can't you tell?