Manage me. I'm a mess. Turn a page. I'm a book half-unread. I want to be laughed at. Laughed with just because. I want to feel weightless. And that should be enough.
Tonight we lie awake. Remember how the coffee made us shake. On those long drives?. One more long night. . Another seven days. Heartbeat racing the interstate, my home tonight.
I admit, I miss seeing your face, babe. & being alone is starting to take its toll. I'm cold, & it's getting old. . I admit, I should've made some changes.
Rush of the past. I quietly crash and the tables turn. You're beautiful strange, defiantly brash. Be careful now. . Kid you're a cut above. Always just a cut above the rest.
Show us off to all your friends. We're the trophy boys. From here to with and when. We break and break your dreams up. . Keeping us a secret. We're the back pocket believers.
Long live The Reckless and The Brave,. I don't think I wanna be saved,. My song has not been sung. So long live us. Looking out at a town called Suburbia.
Hey kid, you've got a lot of potential. But I think its time to move up. So go on and blow us away with your sound. . Now you're everything that we've come to love.
Stop fucking around with my emotions. I like you better when you're numb. I'm sick and tired of false devotion. Devote yourself to moving on. Or suck it up and let it go.
Lipstick has a way of leaving more than just a mark on my sheets. Coloring my senses cherry red, at least for this week. Kisses under starry night skies, talked about in song.
Well, you're a long walk from my street. And I'm dying in this summer heat. I hope like hell you're waiting, waiting. . Everybody's living like they're crazy in love.
Thanks to you!. Thanks to you I'm moving on. . Chasing out my skeletons and the trouble the have caused.. And all thanks to you I'm turning over. The pages in this book of revelations.
Caught in a cold sweat stuck splitting hairs. I'm drinking too much. I'm on my way to striking out. . Go to sleep with the pressure of everyone. Watching, waiting, they're yours for the taking.
Pick yourself up off the ground. You're sure as hell to good. To let them hold you down. . Waste of chances. Waste of time. (You gotta let me be me). .
Time to lay claim to the evidence. Fingerprints sold me out. But our footprints washed away from the docks downtown. It's been getting late for days. And I think myself deserving of a little time off.
Back in 95. A little boy from just outside of London. Took a fated trip across the ocean. And little did he know. That he would find. His voice in verse and Making wishes on his broken stereo.
Hips sway and lips lie. Like clockwork, she's in control. Of all the right guys. And I'm still waiting. . Fitting nights with a car alarm. In her high tops with her favorite song.
Get me out of this place. Before I cause more damage. A small price to pay. For building houses out of matchsticks. And when things get too hot. You've got me to blame for.
You've got me poppin' champagne. I'm at it again. Caught up in the moment. But not in the right way. I'm falling in between. Tearing up at the seams. We're just aiming to please.
He woke up from dreaming and put on his shoes. Started making his way past two in the morning. He hasn't been sober for days. . Leaning now into the breeze.
The time on the clock reads half past four;. I'm wide awake and thinking. With my pillow on the floor. That maybe I'm just wasting my time dreaming. In a harsh reality.