THE SAWTOOTH GRIN LYRICS

1. Give Me The Amulet You Bitch

Your masquerade feels like paint it peels away and I'm scratching these walls to uncover your eyes and bleed them like love letters and suicide notes from gleamless chapped lips to fevered penmanship crippled fingers diagnosed with a healthy fear of feeling again

2. A 2 Minute Lecture On The Finer Points Of Instability

No flowers for you til you put the knife away your prescence is smiling with icy veins seizuring these are the lacerations like falling leaves and sour notes of infatuation compiling the sovereign erosion of my naked ears in your tranquility a coffin for me to decay in a sellable cremation youre the killer, my little star, tell me how

3. Sometimes She Tasted Like Burnt Plastic Smells

I tried again last night but you held your breath like a fucking champ the solitude of without you is a welcome breath of stagnant air was I the last thing on your mind?
I turned away to lose you whispering words of longing devotion and these sheets are screaming youll rest uneasy this time around my valentine your silence is shoveling dirt in your grave regret is my only keepsake a faint momento of your bitter skin sleep well tonight and know that I wait

4. Meat Hook Marty And The Pajama Party

Severed heads dont roll quite as well as expected a perfect body bag prom queen waiting for her close up like a declawed pussy cat bleeding on my new rug that tied the room together so well club soda is an economically sound solution and sallow skin spoils if not properly refridgerated

5. Please Shit All Over Me I Love It

Hey there carcinogen girl you burned to the filter somebodys baby tonight is there anything behind those eyes?
Words whispered in dear ears and written in blood wilted lies sound sweeter when uttered past lipstick but famished hearts can tell the difference solemn with the burden of your love ill cut you from my eyes I wont go drowning in those glazed eyes a plastic princess paper doll and you tore your pretty dress again

6. Satan Would Sit In The Smoking Section But He Doesn't Like The Creepy Waiter

The fragrance of spent ashtrays eminates and the butch waitress is the only woman in my life right now hey flow no need for a menu I know whats coming to me and these scrambled eggs are runny just like my fucking nose wheres my free refill?
Bottomless cup of salvation for my life in a vinyl booth

7. Good Touch Bad Touch 123

THE SAWTOOTH GRIN LYRICS