Elizabeth & The Catapult
Thirsty
Thinking of you makes me twitch, makes me itch
And now I’m sick in all the wrong places, kid
‘Til it stings like a bitch and your fingerprints
Are faded tattoos on my porcelain skin

When I feel like a guest in my own queen bed
When I soak and I scrub but I’ll never forget you
Despite all my friends and their better judgments yes
Nevertheless, I’m still thirsty, thirsty, thirsty

Thinking of you makes me twitch, makes me itch
And now my pants don’t fit like they used to fit
And I feel a bite like your teeth in my side
And I can’t heal the wounds even if I try to

Think that you’re tame or you moved far away
I can see your face even when I’m half-baked
And it’s not even fair what I feel down there
When I’m trying to feel so easy, easy, easy
But I’m thirsty, thirsty, thirsty

You wrecked my heart, said you’re sorry first
You spilled my drink and looked up my skirt
Your feigned honesty means shit to me
I think I’d prefer an insult

Want another kiss then you’re outta luck
You know I can’t stand a pity fuck
If this what you call making up
Well, God knows you’re not worthy, worthy, worthy
But I’m thirsty, thirsty, thirsty

Thinking of you makes me twitch, makes me itch
And now I’m sick in all the wrong places, kid
‘Til it stings like a bitch and your fingerprints
Are faded tattoos on my porcelain skin

When I think of all the time I wasted on trying
It feels like a lifetime spent doing nothing
Oh my my, it’s just so damn appalling
When God knows you’re not worthy
Worthy, worthy, but I’m still thirsty

You wrecked my heart, said you’re sorry first
You spilled my drink and looked up my skirt
Your feigned honesty means shit to me
I think I’d prefer an insult

Want another kiss well you’re outta luck
You know I can’t stand a pity fuck
If this is what you call making up
If this is what you call making up

You wrecked my heart, said you’re sorry first
You spilled my drink and looked up my skirt
Your feigned honesty means shit to me
I think I’d prefer an insult

Want another kiss well you’re outta luck
You know I can’t stand a pity fuck
If this is what you call making up
Well, God knows you’re not worthy
Worthy, worthy, worthy

But I’m thirsty
I’m still thirsty
I’m still thirsty
I’m still thirsty