Make me reflective, introspective
Make me the violence, and explain my silence
Cause it?s never too late to fill me with hate
So pull away, go, make me look cool

And she looks best, sunday mornings, coming down

So what will I achieve, and who should I believe
I lick her slit, as it tightens it?s grip
My drugged up kiss so hey, have something else
Its hard to conceal the way I feel

And she looks best, sunday mornings, coming down
It seems that some wanker makes her darker
Sights her hair