| Your house, the coffee tastes like dirt
|
| Not because I’m hurt, that’s just what it tastes like
|
| Dirt roads, remind me of my skin
|
| Not because I’m wasting away
|
| With the gravel you ground in, that’s what it feels like
|
| I won’t be sorry, won’t go moping around
|
| In fact I’m doing quite well for now
|
| there’s something giving up, that sounds so bitter sweet
|
| Think I’ll throw in the towel right now (but fold it nice and neat)
|
| I’ll lay low on the ground and I’ll be on my feet
|
| When I can breathe, when I’m good and ready
|
| This tree, with lovers heart engraved
|
| Not because I’m lonely, just because I hate it
|
| Sunshine digs underneath my nails
|
| Not because I’m burning all my hopes
|
| Scorching all my faith, as far as I can tell
|
| And I’m not bitter, I’m not mouthing off words
|
| Look at my face, believe me now
|
| there’s something giving up, that sounds so bitter sweet
|
| Think I’ll throw in the towel right now (but fold it nice and neat)
|
| I’ll lay low on the ground and I’ll be on my feet
|
| When I can breathe, when I’m good and ready
|
| there’s something giving up, that sounds so bitter sweet
|
| Think I’ll throw in the towel right now (but fold it nice and neat)
|
| I’ll lay low on the ground and I’ll be on my feet
|
| When I can breathe, when I’m good and ready |