lyrics I wrote for my noisy garage psych pop band from california, Black Bats

waste my head in a line of smoke
you ain't got what I need
to feed these hands

chase my head in a wood of smoke
will you meet me there?
could you meet me there?

waste my head in a line of smoke
how come I breathe so true
in this case

chase my head in a wood of smoke
now come and bleed yr
worries to me

this case
don't leave no room
for bullshit

this case
just takes
your heart's first bones

this case
don't leave no room
for bullshit

this case
just takes
and takes
and takes

it all
just takes
and takes
and takes