The Cure

[Verse 1] Don't deny that sick feeling in your stomach you can't run from it Let it guide you into high view then move beyond the summit From peaks to valleys speed through alleys if it's done quick You'll have the time to find the caves where days were never sunlit Discover scriptures made by a society of blind men Who suggest the best directions where you most likely will find them Dead set on checkmates embracing a chess set When bedspreads get wet they're left with the scent of death threats In 7 seconds I'll become undone, I'm breaking through If you're around by the time I reach number one I'm taking you You're not the traveling type? Then hide your baggage better Before you die a normal death and write the average letter About your internal furnace And how life's a sexually transmitted disease that you contracted through her kiss When a boy writes off the world it's done with sloppy misspelled words If a girl writes off the world it's done in cursive [Hook] I'm searching for a cure This is a sickness Can you hear me, love? [Verse 2] I kick dirt for what it's worth listening to the birds chirp The same cryptic speech the breeze speaks and sea repeats Recognizing the cycles with every passing day Writing full demands in the sand til the crashing waves wash it away I watch what I say now but I hate it Trying to make my mark, afraid of the dark nature of vague statements That plague to vacant parking lots where shopping carts go uncollected That sick feeling in my stomach starts to leave my heart and soul infected I won't accept it; do my best to reject patterns til it hurts Every second making bad turns for the worse She's getting further away I can feel it in the way my bones ache The ocean sealed its lips, now the waves won't break The secrets it won't say has got us trying to break codes in churches And lately I've been hating its soul purpose When a boy writes off the world it's done with sloppy misspelled words if A girl writes off the world it's done in cursive [Hook] I'm searching for a cure This is a sickness Can you hear me, love? [Verse 3] Now I look for air pockets to pick, walk with a stick, start picking locks with it Opening up heart-shaped lockets with little arguments Tawdry trinkets start to split and contradict Those who say one thing but think the opposite I bit the dust tongue kissing documents in a smoke stack Faith is harder to swallow than pride turning our throats black I want my home back; I know that's not an available option It's the way that I'm walking in between a cradle and coffin That makes me pace myself; if half the battle is done right The other half won't take my health while jacking my shadow's sunlight To crack it open and find the space between my breaths are desolate Life is just a lie with an "f" in it and death is definite But after I scratched the surface I never saw the calm before the storm act so nervous When a boy writes off the world it's done with sloppy misspelled words if A girl writes off the world it's done in cursive [Hook] I'm searching for her Can you hear me, love?