Cinnamon - Palehound

Fiending peeking at the centrefolds

Cutting tinsel into gold

And hoping you won't love me still

Mellow cringy 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 loppy shots on purpose

Keeping tabs on all my scrimmages

And crossing 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