Something to forget about, eye for a sunken rite.
Are you sick of it? Well hang my door. Yea’
Into a bit of fight, now I feel butterflies.
Into a better man, into stones.
Well I don’t know man.
I don’t know man..
Something to forget about, God knows where about,
Can you get rid of it? Well hang my door. Yea’
Into a bit of fight, now I feel butterflies.
Can you be a little less? Into stones.
Well I don’t know man.
Well I don’t know man.
I ain’t done not yet.
I could care, I could care.
I ain’t done not yet.
I could care less. |
