paroles de chanson doing my own stunts - The Blunt Force Trauma

Stabbed to death for 55 cents & a reese's peanut butter cup
Never doing that again lost my sense of down & what's up with you
Tell me what's new I don't gotta lotta time
I'm going pale staring at the red, white, & blue

Left with a head full of questions, a mouth lost for words, running for answers
I'd hate to keep you wrapped in my skin
Holiday lies crying about your hollowed out eyes

How can you say i'm free if i can't even pack my bags and leave?

You have a job why take a handout blowing bubbles? spit your gum out
Wet socks flamingo flip flops, next stop you're a fashion icon
I pray that this stupid guitar will carry me out of my parents garage
Your tears weigh more for burning rags than bodies when the bloods still warm
Waiting up on death next thing you know fighting a war in a dress
But if you wanna find where all the evil hides just head east to where the president resides