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passing information, now I'm waiting at the station for the train |
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fools that threw their mouths about with nothing more to do than pass the blame |
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seems there isn't any reason to remain, yeah |
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second, third and fourth hand words their twisted lips spit out the same old lies |
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on and on the grapevine gathers, anyone who needs that kind of high |
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those whose tired little lies ain't worth the time, yeah |
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and it's shame on me, if it's all the same to you |
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all the time I see someone try to put the blame on me |
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passing information, now I'm waiting at the station for the same old train |
