Pessimist - Wild Nothing

Boys don’t cry, they just want to die.

Stumble and cough, then grin — a lie.

Would you look into my eyes, eyes, eyes, eyes?

Will you be my new drag?

Boxing up all of your things with tape.

Write your address — they won’t be mailed.

Can I still be your pessimist?

Boys don’t cry, they just want to die.

Stumble and cough, then grin — a lie.

Would you look into my eyes, eyes, eyes, eyes?

Will you be my new drag?