CORRECT LYRICS

Lyrics : The Impressionist

[Verse 1]
O' I wish I knew you, you were already dead
And if I could've, know I surely would've
Already dead
Disasters will blow through a second time
Just to make it certain no one somehow dropped behind
And you will form yourself around me
Life falls right into groove
Paint it red
A child's tracing of the shape that was once you

[Chorus]
I left my honor at the desk
Somewhere in Bruges or Quincy
I want no reward, I've lost interest in that crowd
It's so much easier to function with no guise of safety
If I'm so cruel, invite your god to strike me down

[Verse 2]
Retract, withdraw, collect, push out, reform
The process of creation from my own perspective
And it's hard to make connections
When the flesh gets so decrepit
Still, regret is for the lonely man
I pride myself in all I have done
Look how they formed themselves around me
Life falls right into groove
Paint it red
A child's tracing of the shape that was once you
I cut the whole and sculpt it into something new
And pure, relaxed, your worthless blood made true
That demands attention

[Bridge]
I'll make it happen 'cause I'm better than you
You're disappointed, but it's only 'cause I'm better than you
I suffered, and it made me so much better than you
Now it's your turn to weep, and it's my turn to rule
Rip you in half because I'm better than you
I can build you into greatness or be better than you
I'll eat your dreams just to see what makes me better than you
Now it's your turn to weep, and it's my turn to rule
I'm freaking out because I'm better than you
You're disappointed that I'm better than you
I'm only someone 'cause I'm better than you
I'll make it happen 'cause I'm better

[Chorus]
I left my honor at the desk
Somewhere in Bruges or Quincy
I want no reward, I've lost interest in that crowd
It's so much easier to function with no guise of safety
If I'm so cruel, invite your god to strike me down

[Guitar Solo]

[Pre-Chorus]
I'll make it happen
No in-betweens
You're picture-perfect

[Chorus]
I left my honor at the desk
Somewhere in Bruges or Quincy
I want no reward, I've lost interest in that crowd
It's so much easier to function with no guise of safety
If I'm so cruel, invite your god to strike me down

[Outro]
Retract, withdraw, reform me into something new
And pure, relaxed, my worthless blood made true
He'll make it happen if he's better than me
Now that would demand attention