The colour, it grows up
Leaving me all used up
I cut the gradience without constant velcro
You hold that head high, though you do not go
So let me slip into grey, where I'm wastin' away
The displaced portraits fell from their frames
Portraits fell from their frames

I'll put you down like the dog that you are
You mess with me and my gut, you'll be leaving in scars
You won't forget the taste of my spit in your face
When you're only knee deep, through pictures ablaze

I'll put you down like the dog that you are
You mess with me and my gut, you'll be leaving in scars
You won't forget the taste of my spit in your face
You see me walkin' down the street you better pick up the pace

And for a damsel in distress; you're just a little over dressed
I'd rather save my air, that breathes faster elsewhere
Yeah, yeah