Half of the decade trying to cope More that I injure sparser the hope So pry up the tiles and gut out the floors Find the foundation’s not safe anymore After the Lord speaks, baby, take me where the crowd don’t run And I’ll find my shadow waiting Filthy with a twisted tongue And I’ll hide everything in my head And forget everyone that I met And I’ll never be open again Oh, how good it must feel to not love anything Half of the decade caught in a rope Fashion the headache, I’ll be the host After the Lord speaks, baby, take me where the crowd don’t run And I’ll find my shadow waiting Filthy with a twisted tongue And I’ll hide everything in my head And forget everyone that I met And I’ll never be open again Oh, how good it must feel to not love anything Oh, how good it must feel to not love anything Oh, how good it must feel to not love anything