You better watch your head
You've hit your ceiling
Keep your feet under you or you won't stick the landing
You cut your hair
To make a difference
Now I don't even know if I want children
Everything came crumbling
I pick up the pieces and keeping building you
Everything came crumbling
I pick up the pieces and keep building

It was later on when I felt unsure
The decisions I've made and the bridges I've burned
One day Ill be a book on your shelf
Pages torn with a worn out cover
You settle down and one day you'll know
How every mornings a fucking curse
And every night it's a drug

Cut Your Hair

gordon (omaha)