Lyrics Whoa is Me - Grieves

Whoa is Me

I don’t wanna talk about it
Or get it off my back
I don’t wanna dance around the subject
You and I both know better than that
I tried to make the best of it
But in the end it didn’t really mean much
Leave me with a fiddle, sitting by the piano
Breathing in the dust
My dog died
«When you were six!»
Really?
I guess I’ve never gotten over it
Dark cloud constantly hovering over me
I’ve been a bad seed ever since the ovaries
Momma looked at me and told me what it was
Said boy’s got a shadow big enough to block the sun
When it’s all said and done, I’m comfortable and numb
To the fact that I’m constantly sweating under the gun
But it’s worth it, ain’t it?
My friends think I’m famous
My manager wants to put his foot inside of my anus
Haven’t got a decent night’s sleep now in ages
And all I got to show is empty loose-leaf pages
It piles up but that’s the life that I’m used to
Pressing up against the knife with a loose screw
Sing the blues and everybody assumes you could use
A little old-fashioned, down home talking to
I don’t wanna talk about it
Or get it off my back
I don’t wanna dance around the subject
You and I both know better than that
I tried to make the best of it
But in the end it didn’t really mean much
Leave me with a fiddle, sitting by the piano
Breathing in the dust
My truck broke
«You ride the bus!»
Well it never showed up and it really sucked
Storm water constantly filling my cup
Been a hot mess ever since I was just a pup
Papa looked at me and told me what it is
Said boy’s got a weight on his shoulders no one can lift
Tried a couple times and honestly I admit it’s a bitch
But I kind of appreciate what it did cause it’s worth it
Yeah?
The world gets a laugh but my girl’s telling me I
Could benefit from a quack
Haven’t got a moment in forever-and-a-half, and they wonder why I’m drinking
like a pirate in a crashed ship
That’s it, no more no less
You should learn to be as comfortable with your mess
Sing the blues and everybody expects they could be the one to save you from the
depths
I don’t wanna talk about it
Or get it off my back
I don’t wanna dance around the subject
You and I both know better than that
I tried to make the best of it
But in the end it didn’t really mean much
Leave me with a fiddle, sitting by the piano
Breathing in the dust