|
Who's to blame if we don't make a name |
|
Is it someone we didn't know? |
|
And we see that's to be is to be |
|
And even that's still a big unknown |
|
And if we try to be real |
|
There's a sense that |
|
I lose Just to get it right |
|
I can't believe you don't see |
|
That It's me and not the ink |
|
That you're holding tight |
|
Well it's my way this time |
|
It makes me feel like |
|
I've moved from the back to front |
|
And the choice is mine |
|
So let me practice as to what |
|
I preach Running away it seems to be the only choice |
|
I ever come by |
|
By getting my back against the wall you make me realize |
|
I've come this far |
|
Again and again you make me feel like something that |
|
I have is nothing |
|
Your taking your time but then you'll realize that all of this has made you |
|
Look so complicting..yeah |
|
We're all just whores |
|
A time, a place, a mood but you won't get it out of me |
|
Ya step, ya play, ya fool |
|
I got the shit pouring' out of me |
|
It's in the way that |
|
I think And |
|
I follow what |
|
I think is very nesessary |
|
So come on let's a step up |
|
Want to find out what it's like to be me |
|
All these decisions |
|
Now who's to believe? |
|
It's all contradiction |
|
So who should |
|
I be? Cause your decisions |
|
Not my decision |
|
So please just go away |
|
We're all just whores |
