by Jillian Strauss

Genre: Pop


He’s a complicated crazy one who carries an old soul
like the lottery, a winning ticket, the chance is less than a roll
but he slips his fingers through my hair when nobody’s around
and we talk about things I actually give a damn about and I get carried in his sound

I really wanted to speak to you but I didn’t have the words
and there is no winning anything when the game only hurtrs
It’s a cop and robber type of chase a dream you’ll soon deny
when it’s coming down your face you’ll find you know exactly why

It’s a bittersweet, bittersweet type of feel
it smells like beer, it smells like fear upon the ground I used to know
where getting old, where getting cold and there I sit unknown
I paint faces on my walls so I don’t feel so alone

I really wanted to touch your face
but my hands and lips where gone
emotionless with nothing left
then a simple simple song
between these lines that we crossed
when we where so dumb
who would have thought that we’d only become numb


Bridge: He says come inside, one last time
like birds flying south before that winter lie
I go up the stairs, they spiral everywhere
to find that he’s locked the door to get in there


I’m a sucker, I’m a sucker, I’m a sucker for his love
I’ll always feel it in grey until the colors bring me out
and if this is a comedy the joke will always be on me

Boy your the one I’m thinking of when I’m awake in my sleep

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