Cry me a river, goddamn, cry me a sea Flood this room with ocean water, fuck it, life's a beach Turn my skin a pale blue, rip the colour our my hair I see in grey, I see in grey, I see in grey everywhere Reading Sylvia Plath and Murakami Words ripped right out of my sixth form diary I cannot stand the hand that traces mangled words across your floodlit faces Oh no, what a lovely surprise it was to see you last Saturday night We had so much to talk about I'm so glad we could talk it out But there's a headache in my chest Would you cut it out? Would you cut it out? And there's a beating in my head Would you knock me out? Would you knock me out? Would you, please? Well, trash the moped! (What?) Bring me a dial! (How?) Maybe later we can start a goddamn garden fire (ow!) This must not be who I am, there's still so much to do Everything happens so much! I see in grey, I see in grey I see blue Oh no, what a poor mistake it was to get drunk on a day like today We had so little to talk about But such little room between each others mouths But there's a headache in my chest Would you cut it out? Would you cut it out? And there's a beating in my head Would you knock me out? Would you knock me out? And there's a headache in my chest But there's a headache in my chest Would you cut it out? Would you cut it out? And there's a beating in my head Would you knock me out? Would you knock me out? Would you, please? Please!