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lyrics

Johnny carved a cross in the table
Right beside his name
He believed he stood for something
That would bring him fame
Deborah always took what she wanted
Now, there's nothing left
Johnny asked her out on a date
She just stood bereft

Colder, getting colder
There was nothing left to do
Colder, getting colder
Whenever I wake up with you
Hotter, getting hotter
Getting high to watch The View
Hotter, getting hotter
Complacent next to you

Barkley tends bar, works hard,
And holsters his cellphone
Always saying pseudo-intellectual shit
Like we're all going to die alone
Juliana was a tarot psychic
She predicted Cleo's death
She confirmed Barkley's suspicion
They never spoke again

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KONKLIN Denton, Texas

metta world punk suburban apathy salts

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