Dirty Pretty Things

Four more rotations and no one will hurt
These are the things I dream of
I've been thinking through the drinking
Though my confidence is shrinking
That I might be fine
The North would be so proud of you
What would you do
When the stars fall from the sky
And you're only two seconds from crying?
Parafin, Anadin, sick as disguise
So we take our snappy patterns
And use them as knives
Now there's nothing left for me to try
My own medicine and humble pie
But I'll be alright