We took this down, So our flight comes back out number one This Contacts brought anesthetic like the innocent gun We can stand, and can fight with a
So I'm done with all this pain that I kept. Like a boxer thats been knocked down and lost his step. The doctor said, I'm sorry son, You cant win, you
[Originally by Joan Jett] I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation You're living in the past it's a new generation A guy can do what he wants to do and
repent And we're going down At least we look good I'm breaking, but standing Looks like our debts are counting I feel so cold So weak, my lungs are failing
Stainless heart that never speaks, Reads like a story never sold. What if you just forgot, what you were told? You can't replace, You can't retract
When I look back I miss the hope I used to have The sense of passion and the meaning Cause I'm not the same I'm not the one that plays the part Of a
I want, to just give in Accept the answers without a question Its easier, I must confess To treat this life like its a waiting room for death How can I make sense
Today my past Has come alive to eat All of the guts that I use to just keep my feet Moving left and right As my legs shake like trees Oh how I curse
If I think therefore I am Where halos have been made It's not that your an homage Your a dead end philosophy I'll never let a tie be my noose I'll never
This town had some thing deep inside of me and now its a struggle just to breath and this used to be my own safety the side walks the doorknob and
As this cup empties, I slowly fade from me. As day's torn by night, We drift from sight. And as hope drifts away, We're left with broken dreams
You wore a summer dress, I wore my Sunday's best. We were a pair, that night. We dined like royalty, Kissing beneath the tree. We drank all the, bottles
like me I have become the bastard son The bitch of everyone The failure I've become I have become the bastard son The bitch of everyone The failure I've become You failed
[Originally by Suicidal Tendencies] Sometimes I try to do things, and it just doesn't work out the way I wanted to. And I get real frustrated and like
[Originally by The Cranberries] To all those people doing lines don't do it, don't do it Inject your soul with liberty it's free, it's free To all
block we still plaaayyy (My Block) (Heh heh heh) But on our block we still plaaayyy [Verse 2] Now shit's constantly hot, on my block It never fails
: They stole the waste land from you by clicking copy, paste and? one, two they took your work without its sense click and point and click again but
: Computer age with trendy fate Reflects a humoristic fail Still hopin it is not too late To stay alive without a tail Grabbin for a tiny map Someone
