saying goodbye to all my oh-so-security
i'm back to sqaure one, maybe negative fifteen
in record time it's gone
no more biting my nails or crossing my
the spilt milk's dried up
i'm so tired of crying for you
when i am twenty-five will i be still alive
cause i won't be getting any when i'm twenty-one
this magma chamber is expanding
ready to burst
self-perpetuating negativity
it feeds on us we can't control it, baby
volcanic problems arise
don't you dare give up on me tonight
cause i might lose my mind
but i'll hold on to you tightly
will you help me sweep up all of this debris
far be it from me to deny you what you need