Cinnamon - Palehound

Fiending, peeking at the centerfolds

Cutting tinsel into gold

And hoping you won’t love me still

Mellow, cringing ugly fellows

Mixing water into gin

And chasing it with cinnamon

Oh my God, kingdom wants me

Marksman, shooting apples off of heads

Jonesing for a cigarette

With sloppy shots on purpose

Keepin' tabs on all my scrimmages

And crossin' out my closest friends

For someone I can’t recognize

Oh my God, kingdom wants me

Don’t call it a ghost to my own

God, I have a pretty life

It made me cry