My Manic And I

He wants to die in a lake in Geneva, the mountains can 
cover the shape of his nose.
He wants to die where nobody can see him but the beauty of 
his death
will carry on so I dont believe him.

He greets me with kisses when good days deceive him and 
sometimes with scorn and sometimes I believe him.
And sometimes I'm convinced my friends think I am crazy, 
get scared and call him but he's usually hazy.

By one in the morning day is not ended, by two he is scared
 and sleep is no friend, and by four he will drink but 
cannot feel it, sleep will not come because sleep does not 
will it and I dont believe him.
Morning is mocking me.

I'll wander the streets avoiding them eats until the ring 
on my finger slips to the ground.
A gift to the gutter, a gift to the city the veins of which
 have broken me down.
And I dont believe him, morning is mocking me.

Oh the gods that he believes never fail to amaze me.
He believes in the love of his god of all things, but I 
find him wrapped up in all *manner* of sins.
The drugs that deceive him and the girls that believe him.
I can't control you I dont know you well, these are the 
reasons I think that you're ill.
I can't control you I dont know you well, these are the 
reasons I think that you're ill.

And since lots have we parted and loss that I saw him and 
down by a river silent and morning was mocking us. Blood 
hit the sky.
I was just happy, my manic and I

He couldn't see me the sun was in his eyes and birds were 
singing to calm us down. And birds were singing to calm us 
down.
And I'm sorry young man, I cannot be your friend. I don't 
believe in a fairytale end. I dont keep my head up all of 
the time.
I find it dull when my heart meets my mind
And I hardly know you I think I can tell, these are the 
reasons I think that we're ill.
And I hardly know you I think I can tell, these are the 
reasons I think that I'm ill.
And the gods that he believes never fail to disappoint me.
And the gods that he believes never fail to disappoint me.
My nihilist, my happy man, my manic and I have no plans to 
move on.
The birds are singing to calm us down
And birds are singing to calm us down.