the f word
i've got to get arrested to keep you interested
i should have known that i can't change the world by staring at it
my arms have little feeling from lifting to the ceiling
a recipe for stealing hearts i have no power in healing
and i suppose the jesus pose is tired and superficial, lame
i wrote a song, i'm moving on, i'm praying you can do the same
i'm changing my direction making a correction
oh my god, i've dodged the unexpected bullets behind accolades and
shake your head of leisure get your head and body into seizure
and battle with whoever hides assault disguised as dancing
this rotting phase of hands that raise, bumping heads that pass each other
it's a boring phase, so part the wave and drop the dead as driftwood surfer
another song, it all went wrong, the radio refused to play it
i'm not afraid to serenade, the f word saved and sucked the life from me
i've got to get arrested to keep you interested