| Twenty percent of this mess left behind
|
| And this half assed song to remember you by
|
| I’ll be sure to send you photos of all these clear skies
|
| Lately I’ve been grinding my teeth to the gums trying to understand your logic
|
| And you know I’m scared to death
|
| To know this was nothing more than your mid-life crisis
|
| We sat through your lectures of bullshit
|
| Six promises never kept
|
| And now I’m bored to death in this waiting room
|
| These smoke and mirrors are suffocating
|
| So here you go
|
| You get what you’ve earned
|
| Twenty percent of this mess left behind
|
| And this half assed song to remember you by
|
| I’ll be sure to send you photos of all these clear skies
|
| Everything gone in the blink of an eye
|
| If we pass on the street I won’t give you the time
|
| I’ll be sure to send you photos of all these clear skies
|
| Lately I’ve been grinding my teeth to the gums
|
| I try to understand your logic
|
| But now I think it’s safe to say
|
| It was nothing more than your mid-life crisis
|
| So here I’m sitting on the edge of my seat
|
| Trying to find the right words to say
|
| Why don’t you shut your mouth and listen
|
| I’m sorry but all your smoke and mirrors were suffocating
|
| (were suffocating)
|
| So here we go now
|
| (So here we go now)
|
| You get what you’ve earned
|
| (You get what you’ve earned)
|
| Twenty percent of this mess left behind
|
| And this half assed song to remember you by
|
| I’ll be sure to send you photos of all these clear skies
|
| Everything gone in the blink of an eye
|
| If we pass on the street I won’t give you the time
|
| I’ll be sure to send you photos of all these clear skies
|
| Write me once a week to let me know what you’re up to
|
| Please don’t call, I’m pretty sure that you want to
|
| You’re lacking in a little something we call heart
|
| (You're lacking in a little something we call heart)
|
| Write me once a week to let me know what you’re up to
|
| Please don’t call, I’m pretty sure that you want to
|
| You’re lacking in a little something we call heart
|
| Twenty percent of this mess left behind
|
| And this half assed song to remember you by
|
| I’ll be sure to send you photos of all these clear skies
|
| Everything gone in the blink of an eye
|
| If we pass on the street I won’t give you the time
|
| I’ll be sure to send you photos of all these clear skies |