Your knees are bruised up.
|
You don't even know what you're worshipping.
|
Outside the sun rises in the silence of another suicide scene.
|
There's nothing sacred here, no, nothing's left clean.
|
|
Say it! Say it!
|
I know what you're thinking now,
|
you're blowing your smoke in my face,
|
you just need a little taste of it.
|
Say it! Say it! It's all in the script in L.A. -
|
I don't even know your name, but you want everything...
|
|
Somebody's kissing me like it means everything
|
and somewhere someone's shaking my hand in the back seat of a limousine.
|
Now who can I trust? These new friends are so dangerous.
|
|
Say it! Say it!
|
I know what you're thinking now,
|
you're blowing your smoke in my face,
|
you just need a little taste of it.
|
Say it! Say it! It's all in the script in L.A. -
|
I don't even know your name, but you want everything -
|
|
They don't love you, never give your heart away.
|
They don't love you; they'll just take your heart away...
|
|
Name your price, sign it away on the dotted line and I'll make you famous
|
|
-----------------
|
The Dotted Line...
|
| Strata |
