Airbag by Sketch Jets Lyrics

Fighting
Can we please stop fighting?
Coz my head's still hurting
From the constant clenching of my jaw
And blood tastes worse than the yearning curse
Of that white, brick loft where my hauntings come to wave me off

I saw the debris before the crash, but what use is that?
When I'm just a hypochondriac struggling to deal with the fact
That I'm losing control of my own skin and bone
It's too late to go home, but too soon to let go

Lighting
All this moody lighting tricks my eyes to crying
Never heard of laughing in the face of numbered nights
Spent on different sides of my soft, cold bed
Where I'd rather be in my head

I saw the debris before the crash, but what use is that?
When I'm just a hypochondriac struggling to deal with the fact
That I'm losing control of my own skin and bone
It's too late to go home, but too soon to let go