Run Away Jay by Kaonashi Lyrics
Sanguine giving me advice over drinks over and over again
And it just kept going straight right over and over my head
And I would try to lie and hide to get over and over on them
“Why would you lie to your friend?”
I can’t make everyone and myself happy, I’m so fucking over it
No mentions of where I am or where I’m going
Or who I’m seeing, or how I’m feeling
This isn’t the last part, it’s just the next
And what comes next is the ultimatum:
"Do I choose my love or my friend that hates them?"
Don’t @ me, and don’t tag me
I don’t wanna listen to your complaining
You run your fingers like you run your mouth
Shut the fuck up
Shut the fuck up
Who’s right, who's wrong?
And just when I think things can’t get any worse
They always fucking do, I fucking hate you
You've ruined my life, I just want my iPod back
Things can't get worse, I’m calm, it's fine, it's okay, it's okay
Here comes my father;
Hot and bothered and full of lager
I’m not your daughter
Every single piano, every man in my life
Music to my ears to hear you shake your spear at me
About religion, sex and politics you don’t know shit about
And how the color of my skin means I can’t be depressed
The black boy better grab on to those boot straps
The dry, wry encouragement of “roll up your sleeves” and “pick yourself up” gets exaggerated and emphasized when they’re used to fix my mental health
I’m not a leaky faucet, or a loose screw
I’m an inch away from you, face to face and we still can’t see eye to eye
Now I'm on the bathroom floor with a chair to the door
The only thing keeping you from killing me
Banging
Screaming
Gary Barbera commercials on the TV
“My father did it to me, that's just how I was raised”
“My mother did it to me, that's just how I was raised”
Abuse is always disguised as “that’s how I was raised”
“Well... what are you, gay?” No, I just don’t like sports
“Well... what are you, stupid?” No, I just don’t understand math
“Well... what are you, weak?” No, I just don’t want to fight
“What is wrong with you?” I don’t know, I need you to help me
And it just kept going straight right over and over my head
And I would try to lie and hide to get over and over on them
“Why would you lie to your friend?”
I can’t make everyone and myself happy, I’m so fucking over it
No mentions of where I am or where I’m going
Or who I’m seeing, or how I’m feeling
This isn’t the last part, it’s just the next
And what comes next is the ultimatum:
"Do I choose my love or my friend that hates them?"
Don’t @ me, and don’t tag me
I don’t wanna listen to your complaining
You run your fingers like you run your mouth
Shut the fuck up
Shut the fuck up
Who’s right, who's wrong?
And just when I think things can’t get any worse
They always fucking do, I fucking hate you
You've ruined my life, I just want my iPod back
Things can't get worse, I’m calm, it's fine, it's okay, it's okay
Here comes my father;
Hot and bothered and full of lager
I’m not your daughter
Every single piano, every man in my life
Music to my ears to hear you shake your spear at me
About religion, sex and politics you don’t know shit about
And how the color of my skin means I can’t be depressed
The black boy better grab on to those boot straps
The dry, wry encouragement of “roll up your sleeves” and “pick yourself up” gets exaggerated and emphasized when they’re used to fix my mental health
I’m not a leaky faucet, or a loose screw
I’m an inch away from you, face to face and we still can’t see eye to eye
Now I'm on the bathroom floor with a chair to the door
The only thing keeping you from killing me
Banging
Screaming
Gary Barbera commercials on the TV
“My father did it to me, that's just how I was raised”
“My mother did it to me, that's just how I was raised”
Abuse is always disguised as “that’s how I was raised”
“Well... what are you, gay?” No, I just don’t like sports
“Well... what are you, stupid?” No, I just don’t understand math
“Well... what are you, weak?” No, I just don’t want to fight
“What is wrong with you?” I don’t know, I need you to help me