Pretty Things

Pretty things
I can't be bothered with these pretty things
They scoop me up when I'm unhappy
They take and take until there's nothing

But I don't learn
I make the same mistakes and old wrong turns
It's like a bee sting or a slapping
It shakes you up 'till you are nothing
It shakes you up 'till you're a pretty thing

Pretty thing
I'm not affected by your pretty face
This is the last time I come running
The ghosts and hellish lows are coming

Watch and learn
Your empty head is like a trigger
I fill it up when no one's looking
The string inside my chest keeps pulling
I fill you up 'cause you're a pretty thing