Lyrics The Matches

The Matches

Track 11 (Scratched Out)

wake up and waste a day

chase away

a day at a time

and waste away

clean-faced today

clean taste today

toothpaste makes my

orange juice sour

waste an hour

or so

my shower

is slow

the flowers

that grow

outside of my window

are blooming

I'm assuming

that you're comin' over soon

it's almost half past four

and you called here at noon

'cause there's a picture

that you wanna see

now I'm not even good at

being me

anymore.

She got nicotine-basted

lungs

wasted thumbs

and one of them asphalt

tastin' tongues

she wakes up

to alarm

her make-up

is still on

and she can't remember

why she set the damn thing

her heart is a machine

art is meant to be seen

not felt

not heard

it's just paint

they're just words

and fingers are for feeling

fists are for beating

scabs are for healing

and blood is for bleeding

that's just how

I used to be

but I'm not even good at

being me

anymore.

I wake up and waste an hour

pace and glower

at the TV set wasting power

and aching in my head

I'm banking in the red

and compulsively charging cd's to my account

So come out

Jenny

It's getting late

You Jersey girls like to make boys wait

now it's too late

in the day

for a matinee

and I ain't got the

money to pay

for you anyway

what should I say?

I know it ain't how it

used to be

but I'm not good

at being me

anymore.

[Note: in first release of "E. Von Dahl Killed The Locals"

instead of

"Jenny

It's getting late

You Jersey girls like to make boys wait"

it's

"Virginia

Don't make me wait

You Catholic girls start much too late"]