Testo Lungs

Our living room is filled with smoke
From last thursday's inaugural ball
My bronchus are too bunged up
The old curtains smell like hell
And my clothes are soaking sweat

All of our friends were in trouble
It seemed like a good time to waste our brains Feed me with poison or smash my head to the wall
That way I will finally rest

I used to love having people around
Chatting, smoking, getting drunk
I used to care about how I looked
Watch my composure all night through
But I don't feel that way no more
It doesn't feel fair, not at all

Our living room is filled with smoke
From last thursday's inaugural ball
My bronchus are too bunged up
The old curtains smell like hell
And my clothes are soaking sweat And my clothes are soaking sweat

I used to love having people around
Chatting, smoking, getting drunk
I used to care about how I looked
Watch my composure all night through
But I don't feel that way no more
It doesn't feel fair, not at all

Secret messages from above
That talk of gatherings and open doors
No happy hour tonight we close
Our heads are aching our stomachs burst
Rusted lugs, damaged throats
I'm afraid this can't get worse
Bodies and house are decomposed

All of our friends were in trouble
It seemed like a good time to waste our brains
Feed me with poison or smash my head to the wall
That way I will finally rest