Running with Scissors

Oh I'm running with scissors
Hell they're not even mine
I got no paper to cut
And I trip all the time

I've been rocking my chair
Back and forth on two legs
Trying to balance
And waiting for it to break

Climbing up trees
Scramble to hold on
Shaking with fear
afraid of the fall


On the highway playing chicken
******* the cars
Well A cat has nine lives
I got just one

I'm running barefoot with you
Along a ***** beach
Cut after cut
Now our feet bleed

Faster and faster
Here comes the bend
Hear the tyres
Squeeling again
Again again again
Again again again

All of the things
That I shouldn't have done
Now I'm to old
My mad days are gone