On Intrusive Thoughts
I’m thinking St. Jude has got a hold on me
My head my hands my head
Shaking so violently
Hand me a bottle, babe
I can’t breathe
I need to breathe
I need to breathe
Help me breathe
St. Jude is laughing something like ecstacy
Something inside of me
She’s twisting me up,
Shaking me down
The impulses-dear,
They’re getting too loud and I don’t
Know whose mind they’re coming from
Not mine
Not mine
Not mine
I know I swore that I’d be fine but
What if I can’t make them stop?
Will you catch me if I leap
But maybe, maybe I could just
Fall into something sweet
Sweet like poison, sweet divine
If I could just lie down in a bliss of
Apathetic dreams and hungry fever
If I could just breathe
I’m thinking St. Jude’s got a hold on me
Patron saint of the lost causes and
I just might be one