Cinnamon

Fiendin', peekin' at the centerfolds
Cuttin' tinsel into gold
And hopin' you won't love me still

Mellow, cringin' ugly fellows
Mixin' water into gin
And chasin' it with cinnamon

Oh, my God
Kingdom wants me up

Marksman, shooting apples off of heads
Jonesing for a cigarette
With sloppy shots on purpose

Keepin' tabs on all my scrimmages
And crossin' out my closest friends
For someone I can't recognize

Oh, my God
Kingdom wants me... up!

Don't call it a ghost to my own
(Oh, oh)
(Hmm)
God called my life a pretty life
It made me cry
Like a...
(Oh-oh-oh)