I cant work out what you mean, my guess is as loose as your jeans
Shouldve lost hope for the dream with ya, too focused on your texting machine
I already know, wherever you go, you like to window shop cool boys
My friends tell me no, i knock on your door, i guess i like to burn my soul
You wont be
There when I need you the most
You wont see
Clearer cause my cries and my moans
Have got me immune to the old
You can die when you're old, but you wont grow old with me
Why I call you my flesh and my bones when your bones are made of bone dry plastic trees
Like a requiem for a dream
Prescribed as a pill dipped in cream
I'm an addict to your theme, i think, i feel the walls crashing in
I already know, wherever you go, you like to window shop cool boys
My friends tell me no, i knock on your door, i guess i love to burn my soul
You wont be
There when I need you the most
You wont see
Clearer cause my cries and my moans
Its got me immune to the old
You can die when you're old, but you wont grow old with me
Why I call you my flesh and my bones when your bones are made of bone dry plastic trees
You wont be
There after one thousand calls
You wont see
Right when I've done nothing wrong