Caustic

I've become Redundant thoughts And you're the smell of smoke in my jacket How foolish and naive I've been And I'm paying hell for it I guess I've become A disappointment And you're the light that bleeds into my room in cold mornings Wish there was something else that I could have done But I guess we can't always get what we want Cut my head off And get a new one Cut my head off And bury it into the fucking ground