Mr. Poopy Butthead

TRSH

Compositor: Não Disponível

Talking in a code I came up with
It makes everything sound nice
I'm selling real estate in hopes to find some better days
You're falling more and more behind
My walls keep caving in
My skin feels like it's paper thin
I wallow in a search to cure the blind

And I'm not the best, but I'm sure not the worst
And every time I open up, I let out another can of worms
Making progress is as hopeless as it gets
Spilling nonsense to shadows that don't exist
I'm finding all the medications that you’re on
I'm gonna take them too, I wanna feel lone you

This is the last time I try to make amends
You always make me feel regretful, like a handful
I'm just someone with mood that they can't handle
Your eyes look pretty in the dark
I think I prefer the lights off

I change my mood every time that I lose
I know you had hopes between me and you
Let's talk about getting back together again
And hate each other and swear to both ends
And this is what we want
But what if it's not?

I'm going places that you can only imagine
It’s hard not knowing if we will ever happen
So grab 40's and get to know me
And not at another party
Last time I threw up what was in my guts