Postcards from Hell - Straw

I was falling over.

I was comatose.

I was drinking it in tomorrow.

I was stealing poses.

I was seeing ghosts.

I was looking to shake my shadow.

Confusing myself.

Choosing the short straw.

I’m moving to hell.

I’ll send you a postcard.

Feeling unwell.

Even the nurse reminds me of you.

This is the last day of the war.

This is the last day I will want to fight with you.

This is the last day of the war.

Don’t blame it on me.

I was floating over.

I was overdosed.

I wasn’t planning on going solo.

Now I’m slipping under.

Now my eyes are closed.

I was dreaming about the photo.

Confusing myself.

They’re shooting the wrong horse.

I’m moving to hell.

Going to send you a postcard.

Being unwell.

Feeling the nurse reminds me of you.

This is the last day of the war.

This is the last day I will want to fight with you.

This is the last day of the war.

Don’t blame it on me.

Don’t blame it on me.

This is my reward.

Don’t blame it on me.

This is my reward.

Don’t blame it on me.

This is my reward.

Don’t blame it on me.

This is my reward.

Don’t blame it on me.