Letras
Picture me in heavy chains
I got what it takes to be
The prisoner himself
Picture me in black and white short Chanel
What do you mean when you say
Your existence has very little meaning today
What do you mean when you say
I insist that you get well with the fact
That nothing ever feels the same
I got a picture of me and I hand in hand
Nothing ever feels real
We're supposed to be the really, really, really big deal
Nothing ever feels right
I cannot live without cigarettes and wine
Nothing ever feels wrong
I think that this is not the time to seem strong
So move on, move on
I know it's really hard for you
Little birds are usually cute
You are probably too
Yeah, I'm insecure too
He has problems too
But no, we are not cute
And you curse in the night
Cry your pillow while you hope you might die
No, don't hate the game
I insist that you get well with the fact
That nothing ever feels the same
I got a picture of me and I hand in hand
Nothing ever feels real
We're supposed to be the really, really, really big deal
Nothing ever feels right
I cannot live without cigarettes and wine
Nothing ever feels wrong
I think that this is not the time to seem strong
So move on, move on
I tend to mess up everything I try (and)
I tend to mess up every fucking time (I know)
I tend to mess up everything I try
It seems I fuck up every fucking time
I tend to mess up everything I try (oh)
I tend to mess up every fucking time (no)
I tend to mess up everything I try
I think I just have to get along with the fact
That nothing ever feels the same
I got a picture of me and I hand in hand
Nothing ever feels real
We're supposed to be the really, really, really big deal
Nothing ever feels right