Only Good For Conversation

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F G F G

G              F
my poket don't drive me fast
G                   F
my mother treats me slow
G                F
My statues got a concrete heart
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G                      F
but you're the coldest bitch I know


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F G F G

In the factory that you call your 
mind
Graveyard thoughts of stone
A master thief I wouldn't enter 
there
You're nothing I would come to own

Your pretending that you've got it 
made
I know you know no truths
You're still serving cookies and 
Kool-aid
You're so proper and so cute.