|
Every time I think |
|
And I do get by |
|
And I have all my friends |
|
And I do get high |
|
But every time, I can't deny |
|
I'm already dead |
|
and I already died |
|
You think that it's soup |
|
and that it's your friend |
|
But it's already gone |
|
and it's poop in the end |
|
There is no where to go |
|
and no way to win |
|
Then you start to fantasize again |
|
Mean Girls Give Pleasure |
|
It's my greatest treasure |
|
You can't really live |
|
and you can't really sin |
|
And all of your dreams |
|
are probably pretend |
|
And nothing makes sense |
|
and it's over again |
|
And you're already dead |
|
and you're dying for sin |
|
Too blind to see |
|
and too weak to think |
|
And the angel of death |
|
is taking you for a walk |
|
Nothing to say |
|
but just small talk |
|
And your head is in a block |
|
Mean Girls Give Pleasure |
|
It's my greatest treasure |
|
You can't really love |
|
and you can't really hate |
|
And all of your problems |
|
are probably fake |
|
If she tastes just like |
|
ice cream and cake |
|
Then you know it's not too late |
|
The more you live |
|
and the less you know for |
|
And love can wash up on the shore |
|
And it dries your tears |
|
after all these years |
|
And being rich is better then being poor |
|
Mean Girls Give Pleasure |
|
It's my greatest treasure |