On the drive home I get a phone call From this girl who keeps crawling around in my mind Leaving wormholes burrowed deep inside And turning up at the wrong place and the wrong time. Well, I can't get over the fact that I ain't over you yet, And it's getting pathetic that I still sing these songs. But that's just it, you see, you don't get it. I broke my back breaking this habit and breathing life into these songs. The worms in my heart love to s** me dry. Engorged with sick fantasies of me struggling to survive. Now I run with the hunted and an arrow through my knee, But I walk with the swagger of a thousand hipster kings. If I could just get over the fact that I ain't over you yet, It wouldn't be pathetic that I still sing these songs. But that's just it, you see, you don't get it. I broke my back breaking this habit and breathing life into these songs. I know it's not fair to say things out of spite And I know it hurts to hear: "you're just a parasite." I'm not sorry for that. You should have warned me from the start That you'd slither on through my veins and infest my heart.