pull the car onto the shoulder now

you're making a mess

just a little bit of irony

your life is running out your eyeballs in a pretty blue parade

things were fine until the angel

poked out of your chest

and read your happy life the riot act

now you're drowning in a sea of broken promises you made



breakup breakdown

pull the joystick back

until you black out softly



pull the bull out of the china shop

he's making a mess

let him loose into the gallery

pour the dust into the bloodstream till it's all that you can see

what's the point in pulling punches

you can't even guess

what's the point in faking flattery

what's the point in anything that pulls you far away from me?



we're so very sorry