You sit back on the knife as I lean into the punch Aren't we a bunch I wake up every morning the feeling of being ashamed I don't want my name I'll spend July feeling my strings being pulled Laying down as the train speeds at me like a bull To you I walk up twenty first street Haven't had enough to eat I guess I'm shit at being alone I keep looking over my shoulder Trying to see if I've got older but I've turned myself around You spend July with your Fingers curled Twisting out to make me likeable To you To you To you To you