It’s all good fun at the kissing booth, until you go ahead and chip your tooth, and end up looking like the Gypsy from Drag Me To Hell

Cuz when you start to eat the shit of the ones producing it, you won’t have much taste for caviar

While I’m not superstitious, I still make my wishes, even though wishing’s meant for the hopeful

The fortune cookie on my plate, says “things will be great”, now I’m taking advice from a confectionery treat

But what can I do, what can I do, for you? For you? What can I do, what can I do, for you? For you?

There’s a scar on my brain, from every demon that I’ve slain, what are my options when the demon’s in you?

So I wake myself in the night, to make sure I’m still alive, I take my pulse, it’s at a comfortable one thousand

And I might be naïve, wear my heart out on my sleeve, but I’ve always been a stupid romantic

I’ll stick my fingers in my ears, ignore the salty taste of my tears, I’ll close my eyes and imagine the sunnier side

But what can I do, what can I do, for you? For you? What can I do, what can I do, for you? For you?

The words in my journal are turning me nocturnal; the words are tattooed upon my eyelids.

This place used to be a place of comfort and familiarity, but where’s the comfort when you’re balls-deep in quicksand?

So I’ll pack up my car, disappear some place real far, but the soured milk of paradise follows

The fortune cookie on my plate, says “things will be great”,
Well at least I’ve got a cookie

While it’s been real fun, it’s been a whole lot of fun, I’ve got to run

While it’s been real fun, it’s been a whole lot of fun, I’ve got to go be the one in the sun