Wilt

With a surgeon's precision and a drunk man's hand
 They say I've stopped growing, so I'll do what I can
 Nothing ever changes 'til it gets outta hand
 Don't panic, this is just routine
 Don't panic, this is just routine
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 You've got roses on the brain, but I'm all wilt
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 Even if the roses are fake, the plastic is real
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 And you are not the only one afraid of standing still
 Ooh
 My misery will bury you
 And I'm so sorry that I'm scaring you
 But what was I supposed to do
 As opposed to loving you?
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 You've got roses on the brain
 But I'm all wilt
 I'm all wilt
 I'm all wilt
 My misery will bury you
 And I'm so sorry that I'm scaring you
 But what was I supposed to do, ooh
 If you can't give me something real to hang on to?
 I knew it would lead to nothing
 But what was I supposed to do
 
 As opposed to loving you?