I dream in black and white,
It’s a reflection of my ambition.

I can’t afford colour,

It’s such a boring condition. 

Vodka and sleeping pills to kill the insomnia,
Waking up more nervous with added nausea.
Sleep is no respite when your dreams are so literal.
And I don’t need a shrink to teach me how to be more critical.
Yet I’m traumatised by all these more colourful creations.

Well if sleep is the cousin of death,
I really wish he was, 

A closer relation.


I want to walk like Lazarus.
I need money to rise.
I want to walk again and run the length of your heavy eyes.

If I could only taste or hear, maybe this could be alright?
There’s nothing worse than black and white.
Black and White. 



I lie on my back in someone else’s bed.
Trying to undo the words I wish I’d never said.

Rewriting memories with a broken VCR.
Cut out the adverts and make you the star. 

Put all my insecurities into soft focus.
Slow motion so you won’t even notice. 

That I’m always your lover’s understudy.
And that’s the last thing I’d hoped to be. 



I want to walk like Lazarus.
I need money to rise.
I want to walk again and run the length of your heavy eyes.

If I could only taste or hear, maybe this could be alright?
There’s nothing worse than black and white.
Black and White. 



Put me down. 

Put me down.
Put me down. 



I’m so tired and I can’t do this. I’m so tired.
Why’d you put me through this?
Just put me down, put me down now.

I’m so tired and I can’t do this. I’m so tired.
Why’d you put me through this?
Just put me down, put me down.