Melancholia just what the hell are ya?
You’re a scab that heals then grows back.
You’re a rabid monkey masseuse on my back.
When I pick up a hope or a pen you sweet shatter
Them into cans of empty color, good for nothing
But a fresh coat of paint on a scab that won’t
Even leave a scar, because it keeps growing back.
I’ve been in love, but you take that too.
I’ve been day to day, in every way, playing
Like people play, working like people work;
Everyday something new, someone new,
Sometimes even love too, but the only
Thing that stays is you; this scab
That keeps growing back.
So Melancholia just where the Hell are ya?
If I knew I’d call the other way home.
But you’re a scab that keeps growing back.
You break what I love.
You’re beautiful, so beautiful
Even what -love- can do.