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My Iron Lung
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Clementine
My blood is boiling up
right to the back of my eyes.
Too many knots in my throat,
I couldn't speak if I tried,
I wouldn't know what to say.
Congratulations,
I guess
That means no more phone calls
Or 'I love you, goodnight,'
And I'm glad you moved North
So I won't hear you're doing alright.
Three years of my life.
The best years of my life.
Now I feel like Joel Barish, need you erased from my mind.
Need you erased from my mind.
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