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Wisdom teeth

par Frank Turner

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It´s been 18 months since I kissed you once, so just saying "hi" just isn´t going to fly,
But if you give me a clue and a minute or two then I might remember your name.
And I hate to insist that I was really that pissed, but to tell the truth, in my flush of youth,
I would drown my sight until faces and nights seemed the same.
A nervous shrug and an awkward hug won´t get me out of the hole that I´ve dug,
So I slip the noose with a poor excuse and talk to someone, anyone else.
I sit with my friends and I try to pretend that I never did that sort of thing again
But I´m lying to myself.

And suddenly it´s as clear as clear could be: I´m not quite the perfect man that I hoped I´d be.
And though I alwasy tried to live an honest life, to tell the truth I´ve told my share of lies.

I remember you, of course I do, but I don´t recall how many times we´ve been though
Our little game, that always ends the same, with you sad and me far away.
And every time I repeat the line that the fault´s not mine and I wasn´t unkind,
But the worst part is that I´ve got nothing else to say.

All the pretty little pictures of faith and firm devotion that I painted as a child;
They have fallen by the wayside, along with all my puppy-fat,
But my days have taught me this:
That every day I spend pretending that I always choose the right path
Is a day that I choose the wrong.

My wisdom teeth have been giving me grief;
They woke me up to find that I´m exactly the kind
Of guy I said that I´d rather be dead
Than be in the days before I got laid.
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