Testo Fever dream girl Kyle Craft

Fever dream girl

Was the the train wreck?
Was she your last drag?
Was she the little piece of mind you thought you once had?
Was she the cure-all, or just the disease?
Was she the ransack, or the good denim jeans?

Maybe the money spent
Maybe the bad nights
Maybe the deep wound left behind a spider bite
Maybe the head hung inside a toilet seat
Maybe the vampire searching for someone to bleed

Hey, it's whatever she wants to be
Hey, that's whatever she's gonna be
Out there roaming the night
Guess I'm the only boy she won't bite

Was she the wedding dress drenched all in gasoline?
Was she the new-age Jezebel dog treat?
Was she the warhead, or the firecracker?
Was she death itself, or whatever comes after?

Maybe a suckerpunch
Maybe the common thread
Maybe the gray teeth pulling on a cigarette
Maybe the absolute
Maybe the in-between
Maybe a fortune teller with no-one there to read

And she waits, and she knows herself too well
She stares at her hands, but still can't tell
When good luck comes around
She packs up all her cards and jumps town

Was she the trophy wife?
Was she the wanderer?
Was she the only spell in life that you've been under?
Was she the broken string, or the whole symphony?
Maybe the upright, perfectly out-of-key

Maybe a tar pick filled up with ancient bone
Maybe the footsteps you hear when you're home alone
Maybe the prize bird losing its feathers
Maybe the glue that just won't hold your shit together

Was she the blood moon that means disaster?
Maybe she's nothing close to what you think you're after
When all at once, man, you wake and come to
You know exactly what it is that she was to you