Don't you think you should have called?. To tell me you were coming down. Oh you look so out of place on this troubled side of town. Its a place where losers go when they know there's nothing left.
Written by Max D. Barnes. . My iron-clad mind didn't how to listen. To things that your heart was trying to say. But time after time I paid no attention.
Lost like the best of us can get, wings with no direction. Tossed over waves of emptiness. Looking glass with no reflection. But at the end of my rope, you came and gave me hope.
AKA John Mickens. AKA John Mickens. AKA John Mickens. . I'm the king I floss rings, the new John Mickens. Uhh, I'm stayin' rich and keep the haters bitchin'.
You'd think I'd have better things to do. Than to sit around and think of you. After what you've put me through. Oh, you'd think, baby, after all this time.
You'd think that I'd have better things to do. Than to sit around and think of you. After what you put me through. Oh, you'd think baby after all this time.
Little boy walks in with a bloody nose. Got beat up on his way home from school again. His dad caught him running out the back. Tears in his eyes and a baseball bat, ooh revenge.
That mirror's been lyin' to you. 'Cause my eyes see the same girl I gave my heart to. Where you see time's erosion I see beauty growin'. But you wonder if I'm still in love with you.
Walk on past me. Never say my name again. I see through you. Your lies will no longer stand. . Walk on past me. Never say my name again. I see through you.
Every night you go to bed crying.. There's nothing left to do when love is dying.. So before the whole world knows how we're hurtin,. Don't you think it's time we pulled the curtains.
Dont you think you should have called?. To tell me you were coming down. Oh you look so out of place on this troubled side of town. Its a place where losers go when they know theres nothing left.
You ran cryin' to the bedroom. I ran off to the bar,. Another piece of heaven gone to hell,. the words we spoke in anger. just tore my world apart,. And I sat there feeling sorry for myself..
Blue monday morning at the factory gate,. Almost time to clock in. The boys are all betting that joe wouldn't show,. They'd seen him over the weekend.
Little boy walks in with a bloody nose,. Got beat up on his way home from school, aga-in,. His dad caught him running out the back,. Tears in his eyes and a baseball bat, oo revenge,.
Ooh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Oh, ho, ho. . It's oh, so typical. You don't know where to go. Someones got you broken inside. But don't you give up hope.
Wounded and weary, he camt riding through our camp, He said, "This war's almost over boys, go on back to Birmingham", But I. still could hear the thunder of the cannons in my head, as I walked 200 miles among the living and the dead.