I been lookin' around at abandoned cars on the side of the highway Askin' myself are they a metaphor of the lack of drive, or dead battery eyes?
You gotta' scream to get your point across, that's our way You gotta' scratch the skin with the youngest cut, it'll be okay Too many nights, in the Greyhound station up North Syracuse And the departure screen, lookin' at me like it was talkin' shit just as I walked in Too much debt, pride, and seinging mood through American veins The confidence of twenty fools with equal parts shame
Yeah, we were playing dead, (Ah-ah-ah) Wanna' break my jaw, maybe break the bread (Ah-ah-ah) Can't leave or stay, sitting on the steps (Ah-ah-ah) It's no surprise I hear religion on the radio We can't find any other signal
Slow, that's is how it'll go when you're buildin' somethin' that's worth the build But keeping in mind why you started to climb, it gets harder with height Don't you think of starting over now, what a waste The guy in your head and the one in the mirror got a different face
Yeah, we were playing dead, (Ah-ah-ah) Wanna' break my jaw, maybe break the bread (Ah-ah-ah) Can't leave or stay, sitting on the steps (Ah-ah-ah) It's no surprise I hear religion on the radio We can't find any other signal Woa-oh-ho-oh-oh!
Are you gonna' break down the wall Playin' with a red rubber ball Pick the hammer up, turn me all to dust
Break down the wall Playin' with the red rubber ball Pick the hammer up Turn me all to dust Woah, woa-oh, woah-oh-oh-oh! (Turn me all to dust) Woah, woa-oh, woah-oh-oh-oh!Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
