Blackjack

Tears cut through the powder, let it—

Sick and tired, can't stop waiting

I'll turn into nothing, help me

Help me, keeping score

Hide all your cards, someone's watching what you do

Breathe through your nose, only way to keep your cool

Open your wounds in the quiet of your room (Yeah)

It's the end of the drought

Tears cut through the powder, let it run

I'll patch it up inside the dressing room

Fucking sick and tired of playing the put-together girl who knows her roots

I'll turn into nothing, nothing

Help me fight it if you think I'm worth the war

Is there even anybody keeping score?

So go ahead, go ahead, ask her how she's doing

She's hiding in the cubicles at work if that's a clue

And reading into everything you do

Only feel the love when she's in the mood

If I lie to my heart, it will found out

Find a way to tie me down

Then it will turn me inside-out

Don't wanna hear no fears, no doubts

But I'm thinking way too loud

Don't know how, tell me how to get out

Tears cut through the powder, let it run

I'll patch it up inside the dressing room

Fucking sick and tired of playing the put-together girl who knows her roots

I'll turn into nothing, nothing

Help me fight it if you think I'm worth the war

Is there even anybody keeping score?