Monday 3 May 2010 photo 1/1
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You turn me off by the push of a button,
Then you pretend that I don't mean nothing.
I'm not a saint, that's easy to tell,
But guess what, honey, you ain't angel.
You like to scream these words as a weapon,
Well go ahead, take your best shot, woman.
I wanna leave you, it's easy to see,
But guess what, honey, it's not that easy.
We get so complicated. (Complicated! )
These fingers full of memories.
So rip my pictures from your wall.
Tear them down, burn them all.
Light the fire, walk away.
There's nothing left to say so
Take the ashes from the floor,
Bury them to just make sure
That nothing more is left of me.
Just bittersweet memories.
Then you pretend that I don't mean nothing.
I'm not a saint, that's easy to tell,
But guess what, honey, you ain't angel.
You like to scream these words as a weapon,
Well go ahead, take your best shot, woman.
I wanna leave you, it's easy to see,
But guess what, honey, it's not that easy.
We get so complicated. (Complicated! )
These fingers full of memories.
So rip my pictures from your wall.
Tear them down, burn them all.
Light the fire, walk away.
There's nothing left to say so
Take the ashes from the floor,
Bury them to just make sure
That nothing more is left of me.
Just bittersweet memories.
Directlink:
http://dayviews.com/mikecrapbag/455716869/