Besedila: Southcott. Flee The Scene. Red Lights And Rooftops.

Wake up, wake up,
We cant keep sleeping on the job,
Im watching my neck for knives,
You plant beneath my jaw,
And I cant open up my eyes,
Youre far too much for me tonight,

Oh no my phone is ringing off the hook,
Youre on the other end,
Reason enough to not pick up,
Or rather Ill tie the phone cord around my neck,
If Im not breathing for you,
Id rather not breathe at all,

Oh no its happening again tonight,
Im taking your phone calls,
And listening to you cry,
Does it even matter,
Matter at all,
That Im restless in my sleep,
This is the last thing I need