"Misinterpret Until You Ruin It"

I've been made the villain,
of your misinterpretation.
So now you run away,
from something I didn't say.
(I didn't mean it like that.)

I wrote a song to apologize,
Too bad you won't hear it.
The notes will hit your ear,
the lyrics and such, you'll hear.
(You won't hear my heart beating.)

Rest your head upon my chest,
Like the Sunday mornings filled with anime.
And then we'd kiss, basking in the rays.
Of spring sunlight in the window.

Not again, however.
You lost your nerve, lost your temper.
Yeah I fucked up,
But this time round, I don't think,
The second chances, are yours to give.

-Eh. Not my best.

Cursive owns your face (And your children.):

"Some Red Handed Sleight of Hand" lyrics:

And now we proudly present,
songs perverse and songs of lament,
a couple hymns of confession,
songs that recognize our sick obsessions.
Sing along-I'm on the ugly organ.
Sing along-I'm on the ugly organ. So let's begin.
It's no use to keep a secret,
'cause everything I hide ends up in the lyrics,
So read on-then accuse me when you're done,
If it sounds like I did you wrong.

Our father, who art in heaven,
save me from the wreck I'm about to drown in,
didn't I learn anything,
counting all my sins on rosary beads?
The reverend plays on the ugly organ,
he spews out his sweet and salty sermon,
on the audience.

So why do I think I'm any different?

I've been making money off my indifference
We all pass the hat around,
this is my body, this is blood I found,
On my hands, after I wrote this album.
Play it off as a stigmata for crossover fans,
Some red-handed sleight of hand.

-Hell yeah.