| Your shit talk ain’t got
|
| A thing on what my old friends say.
|
| Hey I heard you got that message,
|
| How they’d drop us a ten.
|
| But I don’t care much
|
| About making new starts
|
| With old motherfuckers
|
| Who ain’t got no heart.
|
| You can’t catch up,
|
| And I can’t keep going,
|
| And I ain’t heard you do nothing
|
| But bite your tail end.
|
| Hey you remember that time
|
| When we split all that money,
|
| And I shook your hand twice,
|
| And you wouldn’t look me in the eye?
|
| And I (na na na na na)
|
| I’m not sure that I care to watch the end
|
| And I (na na na na na)
|
| I didn’t trust you from that moment of sin.
|
| You dig?
|
| Yeah, this van’s got four wheels
|
| But that engine don’t run right.
|
| You can’t find pocket change
|
| Stuffed in the seat cushions.
|
| Laid out in the back
|
| You can’t hear things right,
|
| But in the front you wouldn’t believe
|
| The things that they’re saying.
|
| Yeah, them stories they change
|
| And sometimes get quite int’resting
|
| When tossed around so many times
|
| You can’t find an end.
|
| They don’t even sound
|
| Like the days they were.
|
| The real memories? |
| Yeah,
|
| They’re fucking obscured.
|
| And I (na na na na na)
|
| I’m not sure that I can laugh at such sins
|
| And I (na na na na na)
|
| We keep some close for knowing such things
|
| D’you dig?
|
| Yeah, I got to be honest.
|
| I’m not sure that I ever liked you,
|
| But I was good at pretending
|
| If I pretend to pretend.
|
| You see if you can have freight trains or sparks
|
| And the river gives plenty
|
| And it only goes dry
|
| When nothing goes in.
|
| You ever think about that before
|
| All nail biting at night,
|
| Scratching for clarity,
|
| Reliving old times?
|
| Hey man, nothing is nothing
|
| Too much thought means more.
|
| Constant traffic jams
|
| Of nothing at home.
|
| And I (na na na na na)
|
| I’m not sure that I care to watch the end
|
| And I (na na na na na)
|
| I didn’t trust you from the beginning sin
|
| You dig? |