A wicked decision   we can agree   a wicked decision   nothings wrong with you and me   a week in the forest   I'm weak in the fog   You'll be sad to hear that I was robbed   And we're gonna own this   a face to the voice   and we found the means   to cry as you try on the choice   and decapitation   for failing to see   that nothing in the whole wide world   saves us from this situation      Don't stop talking to me please   baby cut me off a piece of yr nearly blonde hair   throw your heart to the crows not the vultures   cos no one in this failing world can talk us through this situation   We'll speak in the garden   we'll burn down the trees   i'll leave out the teasing   while you are down on one knee   And never is heavy and heavy is fine   But owning the streets meant you ate your words raw this time   It's wicked where you tread they shot an arrow in your head   since the apple wasn't there yeah   ripped apart by the crows and the vultures   Ignore me in the parking lot   I'm petrified by conversation.