Текст песни
To my friends and enemies who could have been anything, i lost the confidence to write a song, i lost the confidence to write a song
So i found three simple chords and i held them together with my weak voice on, then remembered only for what it was
sleeping under plastic stars glued to a ceiling
striving just to be people
So i found three simple chords and i held them together with my weak voice on, i lost the confidence to write a song
may the likes of this song never make one fucking dollar
Striving just to be people, may elvis turn in his grave and les paul curse my dirty calloused fingers
it s more than the actions you know it s safe to make
It s more than money could ever buy, leave it for a demo tape to be played until it s broken
there s a height beyond skyscrapers
Leave it for a demo tape to be played until it s broken, titans and heroes who found survival in cause and effect For, to my friends and enemies who could have been anything
Leave it for a demo tape to be played until it s broken, may the likes of this song never make one fucking dollar We, with bitter ideals of justice
So i found three simple chords and i held them together with my weak voice on, it s more than the actions you know it s safe to make
So i found three simple chords and i held them together with my weak voice on, to my friends and enemies who could have been anything
Working to live and die in american cities, leave it for a demo tape to be played until it s broken
with bitter ideals of justice
I lost the confidence to write a song, it s more than money could ever buy
Sleeping under plastic stars glued to a ceiling, do we only need to keep working because it pays rent
Behind counters, and dying for what we worked
with bitter ideals of justice
Muscles burning alcohol and nicotine every morning, i lost the confidence to write a song
Sleeping under plastic stars glued to a ceiling, may elvis turn in his grave and les paul curse my dirty calloused fingers
More than tragedy in a rock and roll song, striving just to be people, may elvis turn in his grave and les paul curse my dirty calloused fingers
to my friends and enemies who could have been anything
Sleeping under plastic stars glued to a ceiling, to my friends and enemies who could have been anything For, titans and heroes who found survival in cause and effect
To my friends and enemies who could have been anything, there s a distance beyond the freeway, so i found three simple chords and i held them together with my weak voice on
an out-of-tune guitar my father gave to me
More than pictures in a magazine, muscles burning alcohol and nicotine every morning
Striving just to be people, that we gave em hell repeated
So i found three simple chords and i held them together with my weak voice on, muscles burning alcohol and nicotine every morning Worked, behind counters
Behind windows, there s a height beyond skyscrapers Me!, working to live and die in american cities
sleeping under plastic stars glued to a ceiling
To my friends and enemies who could have been anything, more than pictures in a magazine, leave it for a demo tape to be played until it s broken
To my friends and enemies who could have been anything, do we only need to keep working because it pays rent
But we gave them hell repeated, striving just to be people
muscles burning alcohol and nicotine every morning
An out-of-tune guitar my father gave to me, working to live and die in american cities Worked, titans and heroes who found survival in cause and effect
Behind counters, an out-of-tune guitar my father gave to me
Do we only need to keep working because it pays rent, it s more than money could ever buy, titans and heroes who found survival in cause and effect
And dying for what we worked, and dying for what we worked, are we living to work and die in american cities
May elvis turn in his grave and les paul curse my dirty calloused fingers, behind windows, striving just to be people
may the likes of this song never make one fucking dollar
may elvis turn in his grave and les paul curse my dirty calloused fingers
sleeping under plastic stars glued to a ceiling
and dying for what we worked
And dying for what we worked, sleeping under plastic stars glued to a ceiling, and dying for what we worked
an out-of-tune guitar my father gave to me
More than pictures in a magazine, are we living to work and die in american cities
are we living to work and die in american cities
Behind counters, there s a distance beyond the freeway, then remembered only for what it was
and dying for what we worked
There s a height beyond skyscrapers, leave it for a demo tape to be played until it s broken
Sleeping under plastic stars glued to a ceiling, do we only need to keep working because it pays rent
It s more than the actions you know it s safe to make, striving just to be people For, so i found three simple chords and i held them together with my weak voice on
That we gave em hell repeated, then remembered only for what it was, behind counters
It s more than the actions you know it s safe to make, behind windows What, do we only need to keep working because it pays rent
working to live and die in american cities
more than pictures in a magazine
With bitter ideals of justice, striving just to be people
Behind windows, there s a height beyond skyscrapers