there's no lover waiting for me
everyday i'm spitting blood, bad blood
the miracle is when i'm not
my body feels like it's under attack from a hundred killer bees
this isn't me

i didn't call the cops on you
and your breathing never stopped

it's fine
i can't help but to try to make you laugh
while missing your finger tips
i'm not pretending to be a fucking gentleman
while missing your hips
this isn't me

how many joints do i need to be happy?
i already sold my soul to you
what else i have to do?
to prove myself to you
i have no place to go
this isn't me 

no, i didn't call the cops on you
and your breathing never stopped