The Salt Wound Routine

　　Red leeters on the dashboard oh what a gap
　　They persue us to the deep end and then depart
　　Watch us the cracks on the wall feel pain
　　For only patterns on the snakes' back give us genuine fear
　　And I cannot lie
　　Faces drop into the fire
　　I get by all the time on a shelf above the door
　　It shouldn't be clear
　　But it's not for me to decide
　　It's a delicate degree It's a number I can see
　　Could prison cells be in my brain
　　For they're safe inside the cover of a dirty face
                
                
　　Everybody find a college graduate with joy
　　While I'm happy jusy sipping tonic water with lemon and lime
　　You sit at home late at night When it's beginning to arrive
　　And honestly
　　I don't see the need for any routine
　　I'm all out of sink
　　I cover my cuts
　　And hope they're fixed before I get hurt again
　　And all this ground beneath my feet
　　has decided not to crumble into the sea
　　I walked in a house ,it smelt of paint
　　And the ceiling it has no trouble with me