When I was a child, I died in your arms
Then I thought I'd be happy when I fell apart
I read the books I was given
Dreamt of movies and stars
I craved physical connection without biblical scars
When I was a child, I loved to pretend
The men that looked at my body love the way that I dressed
I never fuck someone over without fucking their friends
I love the way I'm unhappy, wear it right on my bare chest
But I want more, than my head on my shoulders
Brains spilled on the floor
Without goals, feel myself getting colder
I hate getting older
And when I retire, I'll think back to when
I had a feeling that somehow I'd make it through to the end
Did I leave it on the table
Dance my dance Fred Astaire
If I can make it to fifty, I might be happier then
Oh baby
I want more than my head on my shoulders
Brain spilled on the floor
Without goals, feel myself getting colder
I hate getting older
I hate getting older
I want more than my head on my shoulders
Brain spilled on the floor
Without goals, I feel myself getting cold
I'm in love with the thought of it
