Robert Cop

Been talking to myself all week
Face up on a cheap rug staring at this sloped ceiling
I'd be lying if I said I hate it now
Yeah it's more celebrated

On and on, these habits have killed me for too long
So I might as well enjoy the view
Crawl back into bed
I'm miles away
Haven't left this room all day

Been talking to myself all week
Flowers and you on repeat
Through these chewed up lips
These shaking hands
These fucking broken teeth

And I don't know, if these lost years will define me
And if they do, I'd be glad to put them behind me
And you
I'm at an utter loss for words somehow

On and on, these habits have killed me for too long
So I might as well enjoy the view
Crawl back into bed
I'm miles away
Haven't left this room all day

Sick of talking to myself all week