well the pills i got
they ask me 'let's go out for awhile'
and the knives up in the kitchen
are all too dull to smile
and the sun, it tries to warn me
'boy those wings are made of wax'
while the things i do kill me
they just tell me to relax.
oh cinderella
all dressed up in all your boots
and all your charms
i'm not the fellow
to protect you
or to keep you from all your harm.
and i don't know which is worse
to wake up and see the sun
or to be the one
be the one that's gone.
and the empty bottle it misses you
and i'm the one that it's talking to
and with you and i just barely strangers
i'm pretty much just left a fool.
damn, don't the streets feel empty though