|
Razor dragging junkies line, |
|
The bottom of the pool as I, |
|
Swim towards the sun. |
|
Every day ain't Mother's Day, |
|
And every woman ain't your mum, |
|
Sometimes funky isn't fun. |
|
And it would be easy, |
|
To become somebody else. |
|
But at this particular point in time, |
|
I'll hang on to myself. |
|
I... I... I... |
|
I'm swimming towards the sun. |
|
And I... I... I... |
|
I'm not the only one. |
|
People throw Forget-Me-Nots, |
|
The bullets through the flesh they're shot, |
|
A tattoo with a name. |
|
It's harder to forget the hate, |
|
When it's the only thing you generate, |
|
And it's you I'd like to blame. |
|
It would be easy, |
|
To blame somebody else. |
|
But at this particular point in time, |
|
I'd like to take the blame myself. |
|
I... I... I... |
|
I'm swimming towards the sun. |
|
And I... I... I... |
|
I'm not the only one. |
|
And I... I... I... |
|
I'm getting the feeling, |
|
For everyone. |
|
For everyone. |
|
For everyone. |
|
For everyone. |
|
I... I... I... |
|
I'm swimming towards the sun. |
|
And I... I... I... |
|
I'm not the only one. |
|
And I... I... I... |
|
I'm getting the feeling, |
|
For everyone. |
|
For everyone. |
|
For everyone. |
|
For everyone. |
