Box

There's a good chance we won't make it to the big dance

They all owe us ticket's for two

So if I may, I will take the first steps

And say I feel like drowning at the end of the month

And the world is warm, so it blows out

And the box is wet, so it falls out

And the ice is cold but it won't melt

'Cause I am a fake who sticks to his guns

It's what I know, son

And it comes easy to a liar like me

Oh hey, and it comes easy

Colors are bleeding into gray

And though you're feeling down

Baby, I want to get down with you

Now if I can say you would look fine

In a frame on my bedroom wall

'Cause I am a fake who sticks to his guns

And lets the bitches run

And it comes easy to a scumbag like me