كلمات Poor Impulse Control

I envy your demise I hope it's all you dreamed it would be One bullet in this gun Not sure if it's for you or me I envy your demise With all the guilt you hid away All the lies that I had spun And all the times I wished you'd stay Now, all that I'll ever suffer All that I'll ever be All that I'll ever ruin You can always cover me with makeup I envy your demise Seven hundred and fifty degrees When it burned it smelled like you But it scorched and looked a lot like me I envy your demise You never said that you'd try When I had to lose control Lose control to really cry Now, all that I'll ever abuse All that I'll ever see All that I'll ever ruin You can always cover it with makeup All that I'll ever limit All that I'll ever try All that I'll ever trust You can always cover it with All that I'll ever abuse All that I'll ever see All that I'll ever ruin You can always cover it with makeup