Joyce Manor - 21St Dead Rats Lyrics

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21St Dead Rats by Joyce Manor

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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.

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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 fucking empty when it hits you'll hear a hollow sound.

I'm twenty-first dead rats again.

 

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