lollipops & hand-grenades

i am the picture on the wall you can't wait to straighten
i am the gas cap you can't wait to screw on tight

it's so illogical
but feels so practical
it's so illogical
but it feels so good

i am the DNA your virus has yet to spin
i am the drug-induced coma you've come to be in
and they scratch and scratch
to get underneath your skin
and the more you pound the wall
the more you invite them in

now all the stars have faded...