×
Corrigir

Your Soul-suckin' Days Are Over, Amigo!

Races To April

what's done is done
i still see the outline of your silhouette against the bed
i still smell our cigarettes in my hair

it's a long drive home when everyone's asleep
we're left alone to think how
we only have the insult and the injury to share

these alibis and the speed of cellular service
it's far less than you deserve but it's safer than hearing the truth

the view from here
trying to sleep alone in the backseat
filled with anything but clear

so i watch the clock
and i watch the bottles bottle up
because all you have is time to kill
when all you are is on the line

and if i counted all my sins, i'd find too many to forgive
you can wash your hands, but you'll always see the stains
(you're a fool for thinking that anyone can change)

and i want to scream this is the urgency
little voices clear as church bells like heaven's choir of angels
i wanna sing, i swear it on my knees
we cannot be fooled again
just commit our crimes and hope that we forget

we're not the chosen ones
we're not the diamonds in the rough






Mais tocadas

Ouvir Races To April Ouvir