[Chorus: Jon Mess, Tilian]
I'm sick of twisting the knobs, your little baby's a slob
I wanna love you but this house ain't built for two
I think I panic a lot, not really sure what I've got
I wanna love you but this house ain't built for two
I'm sick of twisting the knobs (So where is my sweet love?)
I think I've hidden from myself, but there's too many layers
I turn my head and cough, like I'm calling the cops
Is there something more to you than just bible study?
[Verse 1: Tilian]
Turn your camera on
You don't wanna miss this
The way the lighting shifts as it reflects off the water
Below the sinking ship, I feel your fingertips slipping away
Can't shake the feeling now, how far we've fallen down
Like our best days are behind us
You're the revisionist and I'm the narcissist drifting away
[Verse 2: Jon Mess]
To my sunstroke, ghost dance, gold corona
Did I crack that lens? Put my weight upon ya?
Does the manifest dictate to love and honor?
Can the creed uphold, can we repeat our mantra?
Trust my luck and show my feelings
Cross my fingers, cards are dealing
Busting out my skull shaped ceiling
Hold my fucking body back
I'm still raging from the sanction you placed upon the impoverished nations
Delusions of grandeur, have some patience
Hold my fucking body back
I'm sick of twisting the knobs, your little baby's a slob
I wanna love you but this house ain't built for two
I think I panic a lot, not really sure what I've got
I wanna love you but this house ain't built for two
I'm sick of twisting the knobs (So where is my sweet love?)
I think I've hidden from myself, but there's too many layers
I turn my head and cough, like I'm calling the cops
Is there something more to you than just bible study?
[Verse 1: Tilian]
Turn your camera on
You don't wanna miss this
The way the lighting shifts as it reflects off the water
Below the sinking ship, I feel your fingertips slipping away
Can't shake the feeling now, how far we've fallen down
Like our best days are behind us
You're the revisionist and I'm the narcissist drifting away
[Verse 2: Jon Mess]
To my sunstroke, ghost dance, gold corona
Did I crack that lens? Put my weight upon ya?
Does the manifest dictate to love and honor?
Can the creed uphold, can we repeat our mantra?
Trust my luck and show my feelings
Cross my fingers, cards are dealing
Busting out my skull shaped ceiling
Hold my fucking body back
I'm still raging from the sanction you placed upon the impoverished nations
Delusions of grandeur, have some patience
Hold my fucking body back
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