Nuthin' From You - Tilt

Why did you invent the need

To die in my direction?

No point to this except for

That look of yours

Why did you invent the need

To die in my direction?

The slightest provocation

You’re writhing in contortion

Raising each fallen comrade

High on the pyre

Victory cinders flying through the air

Why did I believe tonight

Would offer me an answer?

The times I choose are always inappropriate

Why did you want me to

See you die a little faster?

Desirable disaster

Desirable disaster

Raising each fallen comrade

High on the pyre

Victory cinders flying through the air

To catch and rub our bodies black

Raising each fallen comrade

High on the pyre

Victory cinders flying through the air

I don’t want nothin' from you

But maybe just enough for me

Raising each fallen comrade

High on the pyre

Victory cinders flying through the air

To catch and rub our bodies black

Raising each fallen comrade

High on the pyre

Victory cinders flying through the air