I am a wreck but
I'll turn around.
The attic is flooded
But it's dry on the ground.
The chords are distended
But the rhythm is sound.
See change in myself but
Still I propound:
Running though the clubs
I thought I controlled myself.
I guess I'll turn to something else.
Running though the clubs
I thought I controlled myself.
I guess I'll turn to something else.
Pages are turning
Retention is high.
Eyes without baggage
And meat on the thighs.
Libido is resting
But for now I don't mind
She change in myself but
What about I:
Am running though the clubs
I thought I controlled myself.
I guess I'll turn to something else.
Running though the clubs
I thought I controlled myself.
I guess I'm too, too in love with myself.
Running though the clubs
I thought I controlled myself.
I guess I'll turn to something else.
Running though the clubs
I thought I controlled myself.
I guess I'm too, too in love with myself.