I'm ready to blow

It's not my fault

Don't waste a four-leaf clover

Good happens to the owner

Just wait, when the leaves fall

They go below your faults

Now you're just boring me to death

I've got a catacomb underneath the same place I
lay my head

I've gotta bury them blind and then control what
they find

I'm hanging on a thread

You know I'm ready to blow like I've told you I
would

Out of nothing you find your own authority

Cleanse the water to send your holy blessings

I'm flying solo, I'm falling so low, where do we
go

Out of nothing you find your own authority

Forbidden honor will go as far as atrophy

I'm flying solo

I'll go

Now you're just boring me to death

I've got a cataract focused on a shaky conscience
at best (shaky guest)

I've got to make up my mind and try to make up
some time

I'm hanging on a thread

You know I'm ready to blow, but not quite yet

You know I'm ready to fold, can't count my cards
yet

You know I'm ready to forget all we've been
through

You know I'm ready for you

The shaken are desperate for new sounds on old
ground

To bury reflections,

infections from strong hands in weak glands

And when they're awakened their vision will fade

It aint a bit of my fault

I'm gonna miss her