yeah i know how many times do i gotta say it? i don't we burned slow through the winter and after it got old i'm undone i'm sliding out of my covers into the sun where you looking now? i can see past the crooks of your teeth and your lips are cracked
you're just a habit a rotting out lung nothing but an idea you never hit my tongue there's nowhere i'd rather be than lost in my head drowning out your dead voice and singing out instead i'm gonna paint you a portrait i'm gonna paint your portrait
my memory's no good anymore but that's alright because i still know you just as well as before you're my souvenir with faded running colors and old broken ceramic cutting my hands and making me bleed and i got this fucked up song from itTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
