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Title: I'm Actual
Artist: The Format


Can we take the next hour and talk about me?
Talk about me, oh we'll talk about me
Talk about me, and we'll only talk about me

Can we please take this hour and talk about me?
And my hatred for corporate magazines
You know they don't speak to me
The irony is they won't speak with me

I placed you on a window sill
Cut notches up and down the door
My surprise I woke up one morning
In bed in your place lay a note

It read, "Baby, Your love, it just ain't good enough.
I found sunlight 6 hours away.
You watered me down 'til I drifted abound
Somewhere far from your shade."

Now I shadow my former self
Once whole and now only a chest full of holes
red wax, it paints me unclear
When the big hand strikes 12, I disappear

And the angels are fake and they'll lie to your face
Anything to keep you away
You watered me down 'til I drifted abound


It's time I accept the fact that you on your back
It has buried the past
Can we please take this hour and talk about me?
Talk about me, oh we'll talk about me
Talk about me, and we'll only talk about me

Can we please take this hour and talk about me?
And my hatred for corporate magazines
You know they don't speak to me
The irony is they won't speak with me

-----------------
I'm Actual
The Format



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