Polished trophy, Pretty whore, Leave the house, To feel adored.
Evil eaves, So soft and sweet, So why'd you let them, Pass you around like meat?
You're not even breast, You're not even steak, You're a happy meal, Just lay there on a plate.
You're available at any hour, They just drive through, Take your power, uh-uh-uh, power
You better watch out, I think your meat, Is starting to turn sour.
Groupie they all lovingly, Fear the things you could achieve. If you thought better of yourself, But you prefer to fuck up, Your mental health.
You grew up hungry, Hunger pangs for company. You could've sucked dry all the seas, But nothing seemed to put you at ease.
They say... you always sing in a minor key, Only about things that concern me. I'm happy day to day, But this hunger it never goes away.
I grew up hungry, Hunger pangs for company, I could've sucked dry all the seas, But nothing seemed to put me at ease.
Like chocolate, sex, cigarettes and love, No, none of these things seemed enough. For girls like her, and guys like me, Depleted in com- company.
Depleted company, depleted company.
No I don't wanna be saved, I'm not asking for that, I prefer to be brave, And fill myself with things, That I know will just, Fuck with my head.
With things that I know, Will just fuck up my head.
Well at least I helped one girl, Crawl out of strangers beds. And you, I doubt you ever bothered, To see what's going on in her head.
Well it's easy to judge, And it's easy to say what you said. No it's easy, so easy to say, Say what you said.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
