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von Microwave

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We used to only do this on the weekends
But now it′s almost every single night
I hear you down the hallway back there puking
I hear your pompous college friends, they're puking outside

So I pull your drawers and fill up your sink
Make everything exactly how you hate it all to be
′Cause I'm not trying to hold your hair
No love won't pass through me
′Cause I′m far too cynical for faith and make-believe


There's no such thing as love, we just felt vulnerable
Without a god, without a crutch
Or anything else to lean on

So I pull your drawers and fill up your sink
Make everything exactly how you hate it all to be
′Cause I'm not trying to hold your hair
No love won′t pass through me
'Cause I′m far to cynical for faith and make believe


There's no such thing as love
We just felt vulnerable
Without a god
Without a crutch
With nowhere else
Nobody else
Nothing

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