Patron
I couldn't tell you from a bar of soap
But you looked like something that had died
And been warmed up
Parts of you are good enough to use
Maybe they should part you out like an old machine
Why don't we share a meal
Instead of sharing needles
I know a little place
That we will never get to
Unless you raise them high
Your little white
Your little white flags
Suburban self-demolisher's suicide pact
She can't get close to death unless she catches it in the act
When I was lying on my side in the hospital
And the walls were closing in
The furthest from my mind was the thrill
Your kindness is as unlimited as your self hatred
If I thought it'd make a difference I'd become
A patron of your heart
But your coffers must be filled with your disciples
I'm not the only beast of burden
Eager for you weight
So raise them high
Your little red
Your little red hands
If you were a snake you would have bit me
Cause you were right there
I was dazzled by the sent of your hair
What can be conveyed in a moments stare
That can cause me such nightmare
If I could see you anywhere but dreams
I would shake you of your legacy
Of bright stars that fell before their time
So raise
Raise them high
Your little white
Your little white flags
White flags
Red hands
Red hands
Raise them high
Writer/s: Spencer Hoffman, Mason Hoffman
