Gibbs-Hurley
Residue, tell me what can I do
To get the trace of you off of me '
Residue, on the tip of my tongue
And filling up my lungs where I breathe
I wish that I could face
All the flavors I still taste
I wish that I could peel off
All the layers that I feel of residue
Residue, on the small of my back
And making me go slack when I'm brave
Residue, like a rash on my skin
And dripping down my chin when I shave
I wish that I could face
All the flavors I still taste
I wish that I could peel off
All the layers that I feel of residue
Hiding underneath my nails
Puncturing my stiff starched sails
Wash and dry, iron and fold
It's starting to get kind of old
It's starting to make me feel old
Residue, on the edge of the bed
And propping up my head so I can't sleep
Residue, in the corners and seams
And dancing in my dreams midnight's deep
I wish that I could face
All the flavors I still taste
I wish that I could peel off
All the layers that I feel of residue
Residue...