| Well, another notch in your belt
|
| Guess you shouldn’t have played the
|
| Dodgy hand you been dealt
|
| You got something to say (Yup)
|
| You got words you can sell?
|
| Write 'em down on the page and
|
| Bring some worth to yourself
|
| If I recall correctly
|
| When you first met me
|
| My chest was empty
|
| You weren’t afraid to check me
|
| But two hundred days of heavy
|
| Expectation left me cold
|
| I hit eject, I saw the fire go with me
|
| As my whole head in cruise control, so
|
| Oh tell me what road we’re on
|
| Switch gears, over the years
|
| Too many times before
|
| Oh tell me what’s goin' on (Mmm)
|
| Old scars like broken cars that I can drive no more
|
| Change, your locks again
|
| Find yourself looking in the mirror wishing you had not again
|
| Booking' in a dinner only to depart again
|
| Turn the page and you start again
|
| I know about myself
|
| I’m a man of principle
|
| Principally feeding inconsistent instances of mincing my intentions
|
| And greetin' friends with gritted teeth and ritual
|
| And with them pretty girls
|
| It’s only ever visual
|
| I wish that it was spiritual
|
| And I ain’t being clever but
|
| I never stick to more than the residual
|
| It’s pitiful
|
| Oh I’ve been told
|
| My heart is cold
|
| My body’s young
|
| But
|
| My mind is old
|
| Always pick the ones
|
| Come outta broken home
|
| But I’m a loaded gun
|
| Stick to what you know
|
| Oh tell me what road we’re on
|
| Switch gears, over the years
|
| Too many times before
|
| Oh tell me what’s goin' on (Mmm)
|
| Old scars like broken cars that I can drive no more
|
| Sticks and stones, break your bones
|
| But a chest is bleeding when she’s on the phone
|
| Cuts on her thighs so her scars don’t show
|
| But I see it in her eyes when her ass is stoned
|
| Slow it down
|
| Keep it in your head when there friends around
|
| Don’t tell her now
|
| Keep her in your bed when you’re feeling down |