I ran out of time
My hand gave you mine
You said you’re to go
I’d write you a song
Before I was fine
Now I’m in my line
What can you do wrong?
What can you do wrong?
Feeling it with me, shorty?
Feeling it with me, shorty?
Gimme back my high school roaches!
Gimme back my high school roaches!
When I looked for more
I answered the door
Your enemy speaks wise
This battle survives
Before I was blind
Now I’m in my line
What can I do wrong?
What can I do wrong?
Feeling it with me, shorty?
Feeling it with me, shorty?
Gimme back my high school roaches!
Gimme back my high school roaches!
