Lips Shut Nina Chuba
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "Lips Shut" by Nina Chuba. Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.
[Verse 1]
I killed kindness with my own violence
I'm thinking twice now, I'm on the brink of niceness
With myself in hindsight, I should love the highlights
I should treat myself right
I should not be scared of night-time thoughts
That I'm not enough for my own life
I'm dancing on my own knife
Pirouetting like I'm paradise bound on a cursed flight
With no seatbelt, on the edge of my seat
Just praying that the heat won't keep my knees weak
Like an unwanted keepsake
And I'm thinking I'll just leave this shit straight
Head home and just be fake
On my own where nobody can see the real me
The real me I hate, not hate, just don't relate
To my own view of self, somebody send help
[Chorus]
I hear a million carbon copies of myself
And every single one of them is shouting, "You should go to hell"
The more they talk the more I think I might as well
And maybe, maybe I should sew their lips shut
They want me praying at the altar of my doubt
They shout, "Judas in the flesh has come around"
So it's supper for suckers before I'm out
I should sew their lips shut
I killed kindness with my own violence
I'm thinking twice now, I'm on the brink of niceness
With myself in hindsight, I should love the highlights
I should treat myself right
I should not be scared of night-time thoughts
That I'm not enough for my own life
I'm dancing on my own knife
Pirouetting like I'm paradise bound on a cursed flight
With no seatbelt, on the edge of my seat
Just praying that the heat won't keep my knees weak
Like an unwanted keepsake
And I'm thinking I'll just leave this shit straight
Head home and just be fake
On my own where nobody can see the real me
The real me I hate, not hate, just don't relate
To my own view of self, somebody send help
[Chorus]
I hear a million carbon copies of myself
And every single one of them is shouting, "You should go to hell"
The more they talk the more I think I might as well
And maybe, maybe I should sew their lips shut
They want me praying at the altar of my doubt
They shout, "Judas in the flesh has come around"
So it's supper for suckers before I'm out
I should sew their lips shut
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