Highchair
It's just about time to give up on you
No more thoughts from moving mountains
No more passing out in banks
Bashing heads while trying to whisper
Comatose from dead-end creeps
It's just about time to give up on you
Unless the morning finds you dry
In your highchair, spitting up
Let the sunlight strangle you
No more thoughts from moving mountains
No more passing out in banks
Bashing heads while trying to whisper
Comatose from dead-end creeps
It's just about time to give up on you
Unless the morning finds you dry
In your highchair, spitting up
Let the sunlight strangle you
Raise your glass up to the wall
Put your ear to what you lost
Let the silence strangle you