歌词
Sorry for what's in the magazines
I know it wasn't fair of me, but
I'm spitting ink onto the pages like
Blood through broken teeth
I can see the gallows all lit up in neon
Just waiting for me
The limelight started burning
They're all paying for bullets to shoot at my feet
Does that make you happy?
They're all paying for bullets to shoot at my feet
Does that make you happy?
Truman will always be remembered for dropping the bomb
I'll always be remembered for my fuck ups
But I'm still living in Richie's basement
I'm still sitting at the coffee shop with Ken
We still talk about nothing
I still feel like the same person I've been
I knew a lot of talented kids who got
Lost in painkillers and turned into nothing
Sometimes I can still feel it pulling, but I
Just can't let that happen.
They're all paying for bullets to shoot at my feet
Does that make you happy?
They're all paying for bullets to shoot at my feet
Does that make you happy?
