| I’m wild inside, sick and tired
|
| Can’t stay in line
|
| Even though I try to be serious
|
| Yeah I’m serious
|
| I’m running blind in my mind
|
| Looking for highs is my design
|
| And it’s dangerous
|
| It’s dangerous
|
| I’m spinnin', spinnin', spinnin'
|
| Wherever I go
|
| I’m spinnin', spinnin', spinnin'
|
| But you know that I know
|
| When I’m right at the edge
|
| Hanging by a thread
|
| There’s always a compass
|
| Beating here in my chest
|
| Middle of the mess
|
| And I kind of love it
|
| Cuz I’m a war zone, I’m a zoo
|
| I’m wearing scars like they tattoos
|
| But even when I’m spinning
|
| My world’s caving in
|
| I follow that compass, straight to you
|
| Oh oh, straight to you
|
| I follow that compass, straight to you
|
| Oh oh, straight to you
|
| I follow that compass
|
| I’m upside down, tripping out
|
| GPS don’t bring me around like you do
|
| Just like you do
|
| I’m spinnin', spinnin', spinnin'
|
| Wherever I go
|
| I’m spinnin', spinnin', spinnin'
|
| But you know that I know
|
| When I’m right at the edge
|
| Hanging by a thread
|
| There’s always a compass
|
| Beating here in my chest
|
| Middle of the mess
|
| And I kind of love it
|
| Cuz I’m a war zone, I’m a zoo
|
| I’m wearing scars like they tattoos
|
| But even when I’m spinning
|
| My world’s caving in
|
| I follow that compass, straight to you
|
| Oh oh, straight to you
|
| I follow that compass, straight to you
|
| Oh oh, straight to you
|
| I follow that compass
|
| I follow that compass
|
| (Whoa, whoa, whoa)
|
| I follow that compass
|
| (Whoa, whoa, whoa)
|
| I follow that compass
|
| (Whoa, whoa, whoa)
|
| I follow that compass
|
| (Whoa, whoa, whoa)
|
| I follow that compass
|
| Straight to you
|
| Oh oh, straight to you
|
| I follow that compass, straight to you
|
| Oh oh, I will follow that compass
|
| Straight to you
|
| I will follow the compass
|
| I will follow the compass
|
| Straight to you |