Correction Paroles Hot Knives par Pigeon Pit

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Paroles

I’m feeling embarra**ed
I let the moonlight get the best of me
I swear I was doing better
Right now I'm just drunker than I meant to be
Snow swallows up the puget sound beneath
My feet six stories down
Beneath blueberry wine and blunts telling myself
“I’ll wake up from this nightmare, roll over to find
Your soft freckled shoulders right there next to mine"
I can’t help feeling bitter
I can’t help feeling left behind
I don’t give a sh*t
I’m not embarra**ed I’m just
Falling apart on the back porch of the house
That I used to live in

I don’t know if it’s the hot knives or the dissociation
Could I still drive this car all night and
Crawl in bed with you in Oakland?
I can’t remember how it happened
I got to used to isolation
Now I still talk to you at night to
See you smile and feel you listen

I can feel your fingers through the
Burn holes in my sweatshirt
I wind up smoked out in your bedroom
Every time that I get hurt
You pull my hair and I get scared
I steal your favorite sweatshirt
And wear it when I miss you
Months after you’re gone
I can feel your fingers through the
Burn holes in my sweatshirt
While we make out in the bathroom of a house
I’ve never been before
When I black out we’re holding hands and
Laughing in your kitchen
I still struggle to feel stable months after you’re gone

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