Bastard Tactics - Lower

At last you drop your guard

And run your fingers your fingers through my hair

Across the threshold of your privacy

I rush side to side

To catch both of your eyes

I stretch authenticity to far-fetched glory

Who cares what they teach of humbleness

But the glory overturns

When you lean against my chest

And the crime will be too low to be ignored

Ignore the fact that I'm utterly utterly out of touch

At least At least accept these sad remains

Fleece them from this frame

Adorn your nagging simplicity

With far-fetched glory

Who cares what they teach of humbleness

So you stand there

Without glamour

Where else can you reach but to

Bastard tactics

So you stand there

Without glamour

Where else can you reach but to

Bastard tactics