this infection

underneath this wretched sky
i spread my wings and hope to fly
drip the feathers black with tar
i was born beneath a curséd star

there`s a witch who lives inside my head
she wishes she was me instead
she doesn`t know what i wish for
is to be wicked just like her

some people say it`s now or never
i think that i will live forever
a cicatrice is just a scar
i look for love in strangers cars

i tend to block out anything
that doesn`t directly affect me
it`s possible to get away
if you have nothing left to say

i am made of scars and skin
and i only fall for americans
i want to find out who they are
and what it`s like to live so far

when i``m on acid, all the trees
look like they`re looking back at me
i`m a coquette i really try
in hopes that i can catch your eye

there`s a tightening within my chest
when i think of all that i have left
a cicatrice is just a scar
i was born beneath a curséd star