London
Seven in the morning on a Saturday
And I just missed my train
Worship
Of the kind of goddess that I sacrifice
Will reap hard on me
I've got an itch
You've got an emptiness
I couldn't fill
False gods and tenderness
Into your will
Pray on the falling
Straps from your shoulders
How do I hold you?
Make me a monster
Make me a beast
Prey on my weakness
Become my disease
I've been lovesick and empty
Cold and I'm trembling
Still holding out
For my fairytale ending
Nightmare
Falling as the bottom reaches up for me
Wake up on the ground
Reject
Every lesson anybody has to say
Cause I won't be saved now
I've got an itch
You've got an emptiness
I couldn't fill
False gods and tenderness
Into your will
Pray on the falling
Straps from your shoulders
How do I hold you?
Make me a monster
Make me a beast
Prey on my weakness
Become my disease
I've been lovesick and empty
Cold and I'm trembling
Still holding out
For my fairytale ending