Trying To Kill M.E.

Album: Computers And Blues (2011)
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  • I used to love the night and now I dread my bed
    Using all the light is how my head got spent
    Torturous virus talk to my eyelids, walk in my size nines
    Is this depression or a lesson from inner pressure pressing?
    Either way, the fevers it deals me are evil

    The thing that I love most is trying to kill M.E.

    I have the queerest feeling of my dearest appearing
    To be leering from the ether, fear more fever
    I don't like sleepers, drugs make me sleep
    Sleep is like death, to do death when you're dead

    Bridge disappears through fog in my ears
    For this chronic fatigue, there's no tonic is seems
    Lucid thinking is loopy to think of on and on weeks

    The thing that I love most is trying to kill M.E.

    General health making my mental health break
    But I'll never let go of what helps me create
    Nothing to this point but for this love
    Love, torturous virus get out from my eyelids

    Just wanna ride out life in the key of C
    I won't bash the black notes, I won't ask for answers
    Glance up at the banister

    The thing that I love most is trying to kill M.E.

    The only good thing and I should cling to it good
    Are the sparks of good art that park in the darkness
    Shaking eyes hate me to write
    But make me think up quite nice ideas

    It's like me enemy, telling me forget the pen dwelling
    The madness and sadness is long
    But flashes of mastery

    It seems

    How many ways will it warm up, 8 months ago fate came
    To break me in somewhat and rape me on the flames
    The queerest feeling of my dearest appearing
    To be leering from the ether, I fear more fever

    Like the bridge disappearing through fog in my ears
    There's no tonic it seems for this chronic fatigue
    I'm happily trading insanity lately
    For passion, that makes me a man at least, maybe

    The thing that I love most is trying to kill M.E.
    The thing that I love most is trying to kill M.E.

    What was I thinking, who was I then?
    Duly I tried, truly amen
    What was I thinking, who was I then?
    Duly I tried, truly amen

    Pull some paper out the printer, pick up a pen and pen into the winter
    The oldest cell in my body's only 10 years old
    With the smell of the kitchen, I dwell on the kissing of my missus
    Holding a bowl and reminiscing
    (I am just a child who got a few years older)
    Pull some paper out the printer, pick up a pen and pen into the winter Writer/s: Christopher Brown, Michael Geoffrey Skinner, Wayne A Bennett
    Publisher: Downtown Music Publishing, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind

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