I'm susceptible to your lies
I want to be objectified without concern for systems
Naturally nervous disposition brims
With concerns and contradictions
The contrapositive impoverished heart stems
And I'm Bart Simpson
I've known the nothingness of chaos
I've known the somethingness of fake Gods
I've been out of place like transitional lenses
Comma splices in a suspended sentence
Kiss the nose of the vulture, destroy the broke culture
That's what I was sent to do with a paper box of cherry cordials
Already forgot what I'm meant to prove

We can eat, gray clumps of sky
Melancholy men are always witty, and I wonder why
We can eat, gray clumps of sky
Melancholy men are always witty, and I wonder why

So I kicked the air like I'm Bruce Lee
And I mumbled like I'm Tunechi
And I felt it in my cheek bones
I kicked the air like I'm Bruce Lee
And I mumbled like I'm Tunechi
And I felt it in my cheek bones

We have a secret language
Communicating in blinks and strange twitches
My brain itches and I'm looking at pictures
And I'm looking at pictures of pictures on Instagram
Feeling like the Vicar of a little land
That spans the length of this Afghan which is not below my knees
I would make you breakfast with Raspberries
And pick out the seeds, using nothing but my little fingers


Lyrics submitted by jtk1993

You Are Go(o)d To Me song meanings
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