I don't walk straight
I don't know how to bite my tongue or awe the crowds
My stomach hurts and my head aches
They don't make glue for all that breaks
I've told you before that I don't think I could ever be
That pretty little thing that you said you saw inside of me
Chorus:
I scream out loud
I bruise my face
I lick my wounds, I like the taste
I hold my smile, till all deters
I'd rather die than be like her
Be like her
I search for sleep, but no sleep comes
I've been a brat, I prefer the slums
Sometimes I push myself too far
I've drank in bed, I've slept in bars
Chorus
