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