Scant

Singled out by the master Recipe for disaster Call me home, call faster Reel me in because the past hurts These little dungeons do me in Talking like a saint Rolling like a sin Tell me what I ain't Pass me off to win Colorful to blame Sepia to wane off Total metronomic freedom What a waste, what a waste I've got twenty-five reasons to let you go I've got seventy-five reasons to let you know I've got seasons beyond the snow She releases my heart chakra like I'm full I need her help to find myself What's laying underneath my shell What's lurking, trip, but just wants love Music as the answer from above Total metronomic freedom What a waste, what a waste Control the outcome Pass mine inward Release negativity Bring forth love back into me Total metronomic freedom What a waste, what a waste