Woke up at eleven, the sky was full of rain. Called up BC7, had nothing to say. There's too many bad times, there's too much in this life, but I cannot help myself. "You're living but you're wrong".
I can't get up out of bed, but I can't get laid with you above my head saying "don't delay" There's too many bad times, there's too much in this life. Always hear voices in my headache : "You're leaving but you're wrong".
"You're living but you're wrong". "You're leaving but you're wrong".
I ran to the toilets, my questions went away. Probability's instead, I'm gonna be ok.
