Lack Of Days

Lack Of Days
So what's the deal
With your piercing eyes
Such a fucking cheap disguise
So pale so thin
Your remarks soak in

As I wash my eyes
And my hands of joy
Never expect me to be able
To handle your coy ways
I told you not to play my game
Now we do things my way
I wonder if you know
That my tough shell is so weak
Such a charade
To force me to speak
No words can be said
To account for my troubled mind
Plastic or no there's no sense of time
Just a lacadazical whirl
Just a fucked up lonely girl