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Dillinger Four » The Art of Whore
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Well I was here before these hangers on And I'll still be here when you lose 'em We've seen it once, we've seen it all before Building confidences with razors, razors Your swelling head, it blacks out the sun The more that you speak, the more I go numb It goes on and on like a painful sitcom Well I'm sorry sir, but are you ready for your close-up? Your ego's fed, my face is red, I gotta get out Forget so easily the way things used to be, I gotta get out All this limelight, it's burning up your sight And I'm afraid you no longer see it Handed the life you want, you chose to respond With nothing but complaints That's not a life, it's a fucking cliché Forget the people who have brought you here Forget the places you came from Well I recognize that the walls are closing in And I have never walked in your shoes, your shoes Your swelling head, it blacks out the sun The more that you speak, the more I go numb It goes on and on like a painful sitcom Well I'm sorry sir, but are you ready for your close-up? Your ego's fed, my face is red, I gotta get out Forget so easily the way things used to be, I gotta get out All this limelight, it's burning up your sight And I'm afraid you no longer see it Handed the life you want, you chose to respond With nothing but complaints That's not a life, it's a fucking cliché Can't get back to the start Yeah it hurts sometimes, yeah it kinda breaks my heart Try to find something to say But the words don't fit, the words don't fit I stood there awkwardly While you let people act like you just parted the sea I wanna set it straight The words don't fit! The words don't fit! I wonder if they ever will Can we get back to where we began? Do I really even give a damn? Yeah the words don't fit! The words don't fit! I wonder if they ever will Can we get back to where we began? Do I really even give a damn?
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