Calling me down, down from my window I see an army of you stretching your arms And all of these signs and all of these symbols If that's true, then where am I Stuck in an indecision cloak? Black heart, or so they say Served on a Sunday platter? Spat by a poison hairdo girl I read the words on the page, just sitting in rage They're never asking questions I see an army of you still stretching your arms But I just can't feel anymore And all of these signs and all of these symbols If that's true, then where am I Stuck in an indecision cloak? Black heart, or so they say Served on a Sunday platter? Spat by a poison hairdo girl She'll tear you limb by limb Everything is so mechanical All the systems so susceptible Crossed arms in the back analyze the sound Short skirts in the front try to get the words