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21st dead rats - joyce manor lyrics

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you’re the worst in turn, the first of the night.
who could stand there staring at the blacks of your eyes?
what a curious type, reaching out for the iron.
to never ask for a slap, but don’t indulge in a smile.
we’re twenty-first dead rats again.

you’re the worst in turn, the first of the hour.
i can feel it creeping on me out of the shower.
like a film on a postcard, a moment entranced,
and with the confidence of prom queens insist on me asking.
say it was me, who’s getting sick on my jeans,
just as i thought about the part that, “you’re such a disease.”
go on and call around, after i’ve been put down.
so f-cking empty when it hits you’ll hear a hollow sound.
i’m twenty-first dead rats again.

- joyce manor lyrics

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