Testo One & Four

You won't see me walking out of any door. We can only make a killing if our clouded heads stop. We stay rehearsing numbers one and four and it always just leads to me repeating/singing,
"Where did you come from? Where did you go?"
And I lost a lot of love to pills and cigarettes, 'cause they always fill the gaps til there is no room left.
I thought I'd learn a lesson but my mind kept sleeping and it always just leads me to repeating/singing
"Where did you come from? Where did you go?"
I'll mess my head forevermore and my whole life feels like living in a constant confessional, I'm too goddamn confessional