Bed کے بول

My gift to you will be the waking nights Don't wanna talk about it The ceiling moves before my aching eyes I'll watch the phone sit still Sick of waiting for bad news Am I waiting to lose you? Waiting for bad news Still I'll grind my teeth down to the nerves again As long as you are breathing I've made my bed, now sit down You get used to feeling mad Move away, I am over you I've opened my eyes And the best of my mind fell on through I am always a captive When will I play the good cop? Lord knows I need the practice Sick of swallowing full stops Now the system is failing I'm so tired of waiting For bad news I'll lie awake For you again, father I'll lose my teeth What use is sleep anyway? I'll brace myself To be in hell I'll fail the test Love you to death