The art of misplacing firearms

(I guess the only reality is the one you seem to believe in. Well I'm walking out, this is the last time, I feel like shit. This isn't the way to treat old friends...) Let's go again Set me up Watch me stand on top of my old house Watch me spinning and watch me seeing the melon sky Oh, look it's so beautiful tonight But I was feeling so sweet I could barely breathe so deep But you had to come along You had to shatter everything Why'd you even fuck her in the first place? Friends don't mean a thing when you can actually feel the knife sticking in your spine For a second there I thought I was fine But oh, whatever I've tasted my own blood, and now every time you walk on by, I feel like spitting in your eye This is not the way I pictured getting hurt.