| Leave your keys in the Porsche
|
| Leave your love at the world
|
| Leave your friends on the floor
|
| Leave your soul at the door
|
| Leave the drink and the pills in your stomach
|
| Leave your life while you cry that you love it
|
| I could write all the songs in the world
|
| I don’t really wanna talk to you, girl
|
| Walk around with a bullseye, marked back
|
| I’m not jokin' when I say I’ll have a heart attack
|
| They look at me like I’m nothin'
|
| I act real loud for attention
|
| All these people want me dead, got me stressin'
|
| I wish that I could know for a second
|
| What it means to be loved
|
| Happiness without drugs
|
| People wantin' me around
|
| I’m just always actin' out
|
| I’m sorry for the things I presented
|
| But, inside me there is so much aggression
|
| I just want a conversation
|
| I just wanna sit and listen
|
| To your problems and your worries
|
| To your fears and your misgivin’s
|
| I’m really fuckin' hard, but I’m soft
|
| I’ve been doin' all the shit that I want
|
| But, sometimes it hurts to my heart
|
| I’m a paradox, I fix myself apart
|
| I tear myself away, it don’t heal quick
|
| Don’t want anyone to know I feel shit
|
| I just hope that if you listen and you feel this
|
| And just know that when I sing it’s on some real shit
|
| Too much sex, got me feelin' like a slut
|
| I don’t think I’ll talk to girls for a month
|
| Leave your keys in the Porsche
|
| Leave your love at the world
|
| Leave your friends on the floor
|
| Leave your soul at the door
|
| Leave the drink and the pills in your stomach
|
| Leave your life while you cry that you love it
|
| I could write all the songs in the world
|
| I don’t really wanna talk to you, girl
|
| Walk around with a bullseye, marked back
|
| I’m not jokin' when I say I’ll have a heart attack
|
| Leave your keys in the Porsche
|
| Leave your love at the world
|
| Leave your friends on the floor
|
| Leave your soul at the door
|
| Leave the drink and the pills in your stomach
|
| Leave your life while you cry that you love it
|
| I could write all the songs in the world
|
| I don’t really wanna talk to you, girl
|
| Walk around with a bullseye, marked back
|
| I’m not jokin' when I say I’ll have a heart attack
|
| It’s over
|
| It’s over
|
| It’s over
|
| It’s over
|
| It’s over
|
| It’s o-ver
|
| Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah |