| I can dish it out but you know I can’t take it
|
| When you told me every time
|
| That you came that you were faking
|
| So I guess I’ll never know
|
| If I was mackin, yes or no
|
| Got a seven foot cut on my foot the day before
|
| When you pulled out my glass heart
|
| And broke it on the floor
|
| I guess I’m gonna go
|
| To the house of broken hearts and bloody toes
|
| It hurts to think about
|
| I got no doubt — I figured out
|
| My little head is so shot without you
|
| My little head can’t hold the thoughts
|
| You put inside my mind when you walked out
|
| Just a little scratch but it feels like it did
|
| When you’ve fallen off the short bus
|
| And landed on your head
|
| I felt a little low
|
| When you told me where to go
|
| Right straight down to hell
|
| Cramping up your style
|
| But your style ain’t cramping me
|
| But what you gonna do
|
| When you’re sleeping with the enemy?
|
| I’m always at your show, in the very back row
|
| It hurts to think about
|
| I got no doubt — I figured out
|
| My little head is so shot without you
|
| My little head can’t hold the thoughts
|
| You put inside my mind when you walked out
|
| My little head is so shot without you
|
| My little head can’t hold the thoughts
|
| You put inside my mind when you walked out
|
| My little head is so shot without you
|
| My little head can’t hold the thoughts
|
| You put inside my mind when you walked out
|
| My little head is so shot without you
|
| My little head can’t hold the thoughts
|
| You put inside my mind when you walked out |