I can't write, i can't sleep I can't think of a way to say what i feel I can't move, i can't blink I can't think of a thought for the thought of me stealing it I can't ever breathe original air Moves like a neon avalanche On a pastel mountain and i come so slowly When i come please have me Paper pilot on a head on collision, routine position Mark out the plot Map written in fiction Don't know how to function I can't even breathe non-fictional air Please take my hand and hold it just like a lion would And i'll pull out your tongue And burn it just like the weather could Please take my hand and hold it just like a lion would And i will pull out your tongue And burn it just like the weather could Moves like a neon avalanche On a pastel mountain and i come so slowly When i come When i come please have me Please have me