Electrocuted in the bathtub Yellow black my bruises become The heart is a heavy coffin Where I lay down everyone I love I used the self-help book To kill a fly I think it worked mom I think I’m fine Pray for my fifth of a century The start of the beginning The light in my eyes Not the tears that fall out Well you have a soft sort of power But you know I’m not your napkin This time, this time, this time, this time Well you have a soft sort of power But you know I’m not your napkin This time, this time, this time .
