Texty: Hella Down. Other. All I Know (Brody).

So cut me open and I'll spill my guts for you
I don't have a thing to prove or the scars to prove it
So when you cut me up and put me back to sleep
Erase my memories you're still what makes me afraid of the night sky

I'm tired of numbers and names no one hears a word that I say

There's a bomb
Inside of me
Set for all of the worst times
And there aren't any wires to cut
Mistakes to prove
Or friends to lose
I think I'm talking in circles

I haven't slept in weeks
Sleep is for the week

I'm tired of numbers and names no one hears a word that I say
I'm tired of numbers and names
I'm tired of numbers and names