BUSCA

Now I know that nothing's get me high

Scorched the land to find a man

Even lost the will to lie

Plucked out every artery

Left my heart to die



I made my bed

So I can lie on it

So I can cry on it

Now i'm wondering why

I made this bed



Cameras hidden in my ceiling fan

Excuse me but where was you, god

That long hot afternoon

Drag my head across the floor

Now i'm living dead

And I made my bed

So I can sleep on it

So I can weep on it

Now I'm wondering why

I made this bed



And the cold dew's stinging

There's vultures singing

I caught a vision of my death

But there is

One sweet poison i'm immune to

Don't wake me

Cause my dreaming's seeming true



I made my bed

So I can lie on it

So I can cry on it

Now i'm wondering why



I made this bed

So I can sleep on it

So I can weep on it

Now I'm wondering why

I made this bed

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