Thoughts that go like bullets through you
The time you told me that you wished you were dead
What's a broken arm when you can't stop choosing
To sleep through your alarms, man, you're losing your head
(I guess I'll go home and dream instead)
The thoughts that go like bullets through you
The time you told me that you wished you were dead
(But I guess I'll go home and dream instead)
What's a broken arm when you can't stop choosing
To sleep through your alarms, man, you're losing your head