Falling Innit

[Intro] [Verse 1 - Jam Baxter] What's more horrific.. The stuff were snorting Or the thoughts of him and you every fucking morning? See were all a bit confused but im done with talking When you're calling me I'm caught within your sorcery and coming crawlin' We were more than a rush of one endorphin More than just some gushing love muscle pouring More than a drug huffing rough couple caught in A blood bubble sprawled a mud puddle snoring She was life itself as far as I could tell I'd find myself in her eyes and my spine would melt So I held her like the ravages of drug addiction And I held her when my sanity was fucking slippin' Like fuck I didn't love her like I loved to spit a grubby written Son I'm just a sucker for a dumb decision Have you ever held a hand grenade for too long And sat awake fanning flames in your room, cough coughin on a mass of Grey fumes tryna move on, standin in the acid rain drowning Cause you gone see love will have you itching at a gaping wound Scribblin' and makin tunes about the chick that crippled and disabled you And shoutin' in the mirror til' your face is blue Countin' all your littlest mistakes and I made a few Thousand a few powders a few downers down the line and she lowed it right and that's love [Hook] Man fuck this love shit.. And I wish I'd never fallen innit, wish I'd never bought my ticket into Getting more committed, into getting torn to bits and into getting Tortured with it, wish I'd never fallen innit, fallen innit, fallen innit [Verse 2 - Jam Baxter] What's more horrific.. the images of him and you Or sitting in this mess of mine clinging to the bitter view This is the second time I've written this specific tune The first one was dripping in the misery of missing you I tore it up but this ones turnin' out identical Thoughts of us cause a rush turning out the ventricles Circled round with chemicals, tried squirming out ya tenticles Man a dozen times I must of tried burning down your pedestal but I can't hate you as much as id love to I love you it's fucked up this is what it's come to So bruv fuck tough love loves tough, tough luck its done baxter.. You've done lost her to some wanker I run back to the skunk and the Lung cancer Man I had enough of yats and enough of anger I finished writing but there's nothing left to say But this dutty serenade on another messy day [Hook] [Outro] I don't care you little slag you're going out