A fighter by nature, too afraid to lose, alone to defend the no one who stands behind him, watching and waiting for the flaws to emerge. Flaws that make a boy who he is. I am smirking revenge.
A hopeless romantic without the romance, hoping to squeeze by with looks and luck. I read more maps than books and have lost my taste for the company of airports and cars, they remind me how big the world is, and how everyone’s rushing to get somewhere that will eventually get old. Watch me as I cut myself wide open on this stage.
My Saviour, a band not a man , paid to spill my guts, I am paid to make girls panic while I sing. Writing lyrics you wish you thought of, lyrics you wish were about you.
Call me a safe bet. I'm betting I'm not.
I am not your friend.
I'm not your lover. I'm not your family.
You're just jealous cause I'm young and in love, but we all can't be perfect and ignore the lust that eventually leads you to happiness.
If that lust doesn't rip you apart first.
The scars are stories and lessons that will be carried with me for the rest of my life, reminding me of choices, allowing me to questionthe choices, questioning the way things work out and questioning every slow and quiet car ride I spent drinking in the backseat. Cheated death, cheated life will it ever end? As I drift asleep, all I can do is pray to someone who might not exist, that I'm gonna stay nineteen forever,
so we can stay like this forever in the rain we smoke beneath the playground lights, it's funny how your worst enemies always seem to turn out to be all of your friends. It’s funny how you hang onto a moment
in time, and dread another.
I used to know the name of every person I'd kissed. Now I made this bed and I can't fall asleep in it. Broken down in my dead bedroom, we're down in the basement, in the dark, after we crash your car, sometimes you can’t help but to wish you could just get fucked up and die.
The pale light illuminates my phone bills that are stacked up by my bedside,
your picture, you're looking surprised. I find the map and draw a straight line. Over rivers, farms, and state lines, the distance from 'A' to where you'd be…it's only finger-lengths that I see. What would it take for you to meet me tonight on the turnpike?
I'll leave the door open all night, in case you decide you want to stop on by.
This is the first song for your mixtape. I'll sing it one last time for you.
Are you thinking of me when you're putting on your makeup, darling, and dying your hair like you do?
See these scars on me I'm just marking territory, I know a million girls who'd kill to be you right now. You've been the only thing that's right, in all I've done.