He likes to play an electric guitar
He does sing, but not in a choir
He thinks he’s cool with his 19 tires
Got the looks but he’s playing with fire
Always comes back like a boomerang back to me
The words of a liar do hurt like breaking a knee
Sober feels out of control
Evenings are high, morning are lowW
He can’t accept that he’s getting thirty
He’s oh so slow, never in a hurry
He serves desire with hurt as a potion to me
Whenever he’s gone he reinvents the word free
I cannot take this anymo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-ore Saying everything I've said befo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-ore All these words they make…
(Hey, you're really crazy... You know that?) I thought that I was calling up my…
I've been sucking morning Waiting for the beat I've been running circles Searching for the…