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作曲 : Rob Grote/Connor Jacobus/Braden Lawrence/Pat Cassidy |
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I rose a statue over cheap regrets |
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I put my head into my hands |
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I rose a statue for the things I said |
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Tongue twisting, head into my hands |
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I didn't know what a mirror was 'til I went to LA |
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Jacuzzis, an uzi, and a Land Rover ride |
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That's what the money's for |
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Bikinis, Bellinis, and paté |
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And in the country we're just burning up too |
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The weakest link's just a drain on the food |
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And if it's better being left on it's own |
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Let's prod it like cattle |
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I didn't know about glory 'til firsthand in New York |
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I saw the smut and the fury and the dregs of the earth |
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But let me show you what a mirror does, it's now one and the same |
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A little bit of nothing, and a whole lot of fame |
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Spaced out for free and made friends in the dives |
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Nothing's ever the same, nothing's ever quite right |
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The image is for certain, but the present always dies |
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So I'm going out to make it something sacred |
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I rose a statue over cheap regrets |
| [03:07.00] |
I put my head into my hands |
| [03:15.00] |
I rose a statue for the things I said |
| [03:22.00] |
Tongue twisting, head into my hands |
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Cheap regrets |
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Cheap regrets |
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Cheap regrets |
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My hands, my hands, my hands, my, my, my, my |
