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Cinnamon

de Palehound

Fiending, peeking at the centerfolds
Cutting tinsel into gold
And hoping you won't love me still

Mellow, cringing ugly fellows
Mixing water into gin
And chasing it with cinnamon

Oh my God, kingdom wants me

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

Don't call it a ghost to my own
God, I have a pretty life
It made me cry

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