Paroles: Shout Out Louds. Our III Wills. Meat Is Murder.

Oh, I'm fading.
I don't stand a chance
and meat is murder
and I don't even dance
and something is still worring me tonight.
Oh, I'm falling
and nothing's working out
and what comes out from my mouth is nothing to worry to about
'cause everything sounds miserable tonight.
I haven't said too much, have I?
There are things you should keep to yourself.
I haven't said too much, have I?
There are things you should keep to yourself.
I haven't said too much, have I?
There are things you should keep to yourself.