Blangee Blee

You pull it to the right and I bring

it back to center

I blame it on your pride and you blame it on my temper

Standing on the skin of a cell, it was sickle

For me it was over, the coroner, the cripple

We'd spend our lives making out middles

Oh, to give so much got me so little

We'd spend our lives making out middles

Oh, to give so much got me so little

For all that was said, I believe it wasn't spoken

You sang it to the wall but the tune, it wasn't holding

My guess it wasn't bound to the spine, to the spindle

For all I lead you from, I'm the coroner, the cripple

We'd spend our lives making out middles

Oh, to give so much got me so little

We'd spend our lives making out middles

Oh, to give so much got me so little

We'd spend our lives making out middles

Oh, to give so much got me so little