Из альбома: Types of Wood
If you're looking for trouble, then it's all in my head.
And I got nothing to live for without you in hand.
But she's holding the sick which is holding me back,
And I got nothing but troubles; you alone is like double.
And the joneses are dead... it's gone to their heads.
I watched you turn and say 'dramatic heartaches win',
But it's not that bad for you with the lies that you made,
But she's holding the sick which is holding me back,
And I got nothing but troubles; you alone is like double.
And the joneses are dead... it's gone to their heads.