Highchair

It's just about time to give up on you No more thoughts from moving mountains No more passing out in banks Bashing heads while trying to whisper Comatose from dead-end creeps It's just about time to give up on you Unless the morning finds you dry In your highchair, spitting up Let the sunlight strangle you No more thoughts from moving mountains No more passing out in banks Bashing heads while trying to whisper Comatose from dead-end creeps It's just about time to give up on you Unless the morning finds you dry In your highchair, spitting up Let the sunlight strangle you Raise your glass to the wall Put your ear to what you lost Let the silence strangle you