Letras
Twenty candles and bus tokens on the floor
Her eyes clamped
Sinking and a bottle
Passing out to pass more time
Wasting away
Wasted today and hungover tomorrow
Hung up on my phone
Hung on the gallows
Her sunlight turns to moonshine
She tilts her head back shots fire
Liquid fire
Molten lava
Buzzing in her head another round
He never fucking knows
If she's stumbling or taking off
But clear the runways
Check the scripts
She's got the voice the stare the hips boy
At best he might be background noise
A soft face in a sharp crowd
She's pumping two sides of the engine
Pain
Regret
Pain
Regret
Pain
Regret