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