Waxahatchee

Mud

Waxahatchee


we're the same, have it out
down in the mud
glance at your name written out
in your blood
i might take it upon myself
yearning for a restless hell

call me an angel in the background
singing ‘i'm not the one'
not your haven at the bottom
or some miserable companion
i might beam with empty virtue
but i'm a feather blowing in your storm
garbage, weather worn

i take my aim at a girl
suffering
we share a name and a need
to not be seen
she might take it personally
put on airs, undercut me

so if i call you up tomorrow
screaming ‘i'm not the one'
to be privy to your fiction
help you get your shit together
i'm a fool in angel's clothing
i'm a glutton for being let down
but i can't help you, i can't stick around

said i don't want nothin' to do with it
yeah - i'm not the one
to keep betting against the odds, yeah
it won't go my way forever
if i held you any tighter
call me terrified, call me unprepared
well you might be stupid but you're not scared
Compositor: Kathryn Crutchfield

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