| Spitting blood
|
| I’m sick of love
|
| This liquors rough
|
| I’ve had enough
|
| I’m done with trust
|
| I doubled up
|
| The troubled young
|
| I’m troublesome
|
| My trouble runs
|
| Babybels and bubblegum
|
| My baby bells
|
| But brothers run
|
| Spitting blood
|
| I’m sick of love
|
| This liquors rough
|
| I’ve had enough
|
| I’m done with trust
|
| I doubled up
|
| The troubled young
|
| I’m troublesome
|
| My trouble runs
|
| Babybels and bubblegum
|
| My baby bells
|
| But brothers run
|
| To tell you the truth I’m obtuse
|
| She acute
|
| But mind you
|
| Take it from a different angle
|
| A white tooth
|
| Doesn’t always mean a smile through
|
| The blind truth
|
| Ignorance is bliss
|
| Well I’m blissfully ignorant
|
| Act the child
|
| Then you missed what you were living in
|
| Acting all intimate
|
| I wasn’t your man just a participant
|
| Rolling joints in the hand
|
| While she’s fiddling his ligaments
|
| Vigilant
|
| Trying to read her but I was illiterate
|
| She made me need her like i was impotent
|
| In a sense
|
| My common sense
|
| Was on the fence
|
| And she was off the wall
|
| Double denim rocking vans
|
| It was all mad hatters
|
| Alice in Wonderland |
| With another man
|
| She was hearing wedding bands
|
| Well i was hearing other plans
|
| I need a second hand
|
| Smoke
|
| To feel like I’m a part of something
|
| Partly running through your mind
|
| Now I’m paralysed
|
| A pair of eyes
|
| I memorised
|
| Just to find out I was blind
|
| Now I’m
|
| Spitting blood
|
| I’m sick of love
|
| This liquors rough
|
| I’ve had enough
|
| I’m done with trust
|
| I doubled up
|
| The troubled young
|
| I’m troublesome
|
| My trouble runs
|
| Babybels and bubblegum
|
| My baby bells
|
| But brothers run
|
| Spitting blood
|
| I’m sick of love
|
| This liquors rough
|
| I’ve had enough
|
| I’m done with trust
|
| I doubled up
|
| The troubled young
|
| I’m troublesome
|
| My trouble runs
|
| Babybels and bubblegum
|
| My baby bells
|
| But brothers run
|
| Missalettes and cigarettes
|
| My sister’s stressed
|
| 'Cause I never text
|
| Perplexed I go and check
|
| What’s next
|
| Had my belly wrecked
|
| As my belly pressed against her chest
|
| I could smell deceit amongst her breath
|
| Regret at ever step
|
| Practicing safe sex had me strapping in my belt
|
| I saw hickeys on her neck
|
| I would melt between her fingers
|
| As it hits me I don’t let it |
| So I ring her
|
| Know it’s risky
|
| But I told her that I’d meet her
|
| Choke my words like whiskey by the litre
|
| I just need her
|
| Or at least I needed
|
| Planted roots without a seedling
|
| Staring
|
| Tearing
|
| Caring thoughts up on the ceiling
|
| Upon concealing
|
| I was dreaming in heathens
|
| Purgatory
|
| You heard the story
|
| But don’t adore me
|
| This love has tore me
|
| And torn me
|
| From friends and ends
|
| I press the pen
|
| 'Till I’m independent
|
| My pen dents
|
| I was dependent
|
| But then again
|
| I was descending from heaven
|
| Into the arms of depression
|
| No question I was stressing
|
| Obsessions
|
| I’ve learned my lessons
|
| Guess next time I’m bit should spit out the venom
|
| Now I’m
|
| Spitting blood
|
| I’m sick of love
|
| This liquors rough
|
| I’ve had enough
|
| I’m done with trust
|
| I doubled up
|
| The troubled young
|
| I’m troublesome
|
| My trouble runs
|
| Babybels and bubblegum
|
| My baby bells
|
| But brothers run
|
| Spitting blood
|
| I’m sick of love
|
| This liquors rough
|
| I’ve had enough
|
| I’m done with trust
|
| I doubled up
|
| The troubled young
|
| I’m troublesome
|
| My trouble runs
|
| Babybels and bubblegum |
| My baby bells
|
| But brothers run
|
| When the blood stops
|
| There’s a quickening
|
| A sickening thought has you lingering
|
| Now you’re tongue-tied
|
| With your eyes wide
|
| Never thought she’d hit you on your blindside
|
| When the blood stops
|
| There’s a quickening
|
| A sickening thought has you lingering
|
| Now you’re tongue-tied
|
| With your eyes wide
|
| Never thought she’d hit you on your blindside
|
| When the blood stops
|
| There’s a quickening
|
| A sickening thought has you lingering
|
| Now you’re tongue-tied
|
| With your eyes wide
|
| Never thought she’d hit you on your blindside
|
| When the blood stops
|
| There’s a quickening
|
| A sickening thought has you lingering
|
| Now you’re tongue-tied
|
| With your eyes wide
|
| Never thought she’d hit you on your blindside |