Brixton

Started off as I fall in a ball of flame burning out on your sentiment It's all in vain Shot your 44. caliber Words with aim You mighta killed the heart but you left the brain Devastated and I hate it see your eyes are insane Gray and dissipate buiolding just like rust on a chain drained Dislocated echo in the things you say You might have killed the heart but you left the brain Your words are making me sick No more lies Enough with your rhetoric, whoa-oh What do you got to hide? Whoa-oh You're dead inside What a wonderful lie Don't you feel alive? Whoa-oh What do ya got to hide? Whoa-oh You're dead inside What a wonderful lie Don't you feel alive? Cut away Cut it all away now Cut me off At the pass, as OI hydroplane Crashing down from your promises, all were fake Shot your 44. caliber Words with aim You mighta killed the heart But you left the brain Formulated and I'm fated to withstand the pain Wave of generated conscience from the edge of a blade Feigned and fabricated echo in the things you say You might have killed the heart But you left the brain Switch all the lights off Tell me what you want from me Take my time and my energy Turning you heart off Come about so easily It's not enough But it's plenty Bleed in the black out You said you'd be there for me Now you're gone and we're history Screaming you lungs out Say you want what's best for me Give it up You abandoned me