I'd Rather Be With Them - Marika Hackman

And all we’ve left is smoky spit and heavy lungs

And I don’t want to talk it through

But my head hurts and I hate you

So make me throw up

I know that you will

And wake up my mother and tell her I’m ill

It’s all coming out now, black, brown

Wine and bile

Salty eyes and frothy lips

Your teeth are bared and champing at the fucking bit

Leaning on the window

When you point down and you let go

You say: «look at the people

Crawling like insects

All over the pavement»

I’d rather be with them

‘Cause I just hate this room, it smells like you

Leave it on, I like this song

When it ends, I really must be getting on

And the needle clicks after an hour

And you look back and the door slams

I’m so fucking heartless

I can’t even cry

I’ve opened my body, it’s hollow inside

So ring up my parents

And tell them I’m dead

And say how you left me

And fucked with my head

And I just hate your hair, and the clothes you wear

And I just love your hair, and the clothes you wear