| I pray for the worst to hear you bitch about the
|
| First real not when the needle hits
|
| Your high five’s rolling into a fist
|
| «Oh, God! |
| Turn the radio off!
|
| He’s getting into this!»
|
| And your words
|
| They were all that I knew
|
| Until I died on page in your year-end review
|
| Research you don’t have a clue
|
| I learned it all from you
|
| You can swear like daggers right before my eyes
|
| You can never be sure
|
| You can switch to blood when the ink is dry
|
| You will never be heard
|
| Now I write words like a target and your aim is poor
|
| So give me your worst I don’t feel a thing anymore
|
| My downward path
|
| Don’t you forget to mention
|
| You’re selling out tickets to my intervention
|
| RSVP you’re a hell of a friend
|
| Somehow I’ll still sleep tonight
|
| Raised on your dial in a FM hiss
|
| Until I died on the air at the top of your list
|
| Pointing fingers would you ever have guessed that
|
| I learned it all from you
|
| You can swear like daggers right before my eyes
|
| You can never be sure
|
| You can switch to blood when the ink is dry
|
| You will never be heard
|
| Now I write words like a target and your aim is poor
|
| So give me your worst I don’t feel a thing
|
| Give your worst I can’t feel a thing anymore
|
| They sing it back 'cause we let 'em know that we mean it
|
| Eyes glow in the darkest rooms and I’ve seen it
|
| I’ve been thee one down in the front believing
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| Believing you were the one
|
| You knew the songs I needed
|
| It killed me the first time when I saw the headline
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| We’ll play it loud
|
| We’re drowning out
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| Your jaded heart tonight
|
| I pray for the worst just to hear you bitch about the
|
| Last real note that I’ll ever hit
|
| Your high five’s rolling into a fist
|
| «Oh, God! |
| Turn the radio off!
|
| He’s getting into this!»
|
| Turn the radio off
|
| You can swear like daggers right before my eyes
|
| You can never be sure
|
| You can switch to blood when the ink is dry
|
| You will never be heard
|
| Now I write words like a target and your aim is poor
|
| So give me your worst I don’t feel a thing
|
| Give me your worst I can’t feel a thing
|
| Give me your worst I don’t feel a thing anymore |