| Sorry for what’s in the magazines
|
| I know it wasn’t fair of me, but I’m spitting ink onto the pages like blood
|
| through broken teeth
|
| I can see the gallows all lit up in neon just waiting for me
|
| The limelight started burning
|
| They’re all paying for bullets to shoot at my feet
|
| Does that make you happy?
|
| They’re all paying for bullets to shoot at my feet
|
| Does that make you happy?
|
| Does that make you happy?
|
| Truman will always be remembered for dropping the bomb
|
| I’ll always be remembered for my fuck ups but I’m still living in Richie’s
|
| basement
|
| I’m still sitting at the coffee shop with Ken
|
| We still talk about nothing. |
| I still feel like the same person I’ve been
|
| I knew a lot of talented kids who got lost in painkillers and turned into
|
| nothing
|
| Sometimes I can still feel it pulling but I just can’t let that happen
|
| They’re all paying for bullets to shoot at my feet
|
| Does that make you happy?
|
| They’re all paying for bullets to shoot at my feet
|
| Does that make you happy?
|
| Does that make you happy?
|
| Does that make you happy? |