When you've taken everything,
|
and there's nothing left to give.
|
You're stuck with an empty skin,
|
I'll call it 'my human bag'.
|
|
But you can't forget the past,
|
I keep my diary on its chest.
|
My keys upon its mouth,
|
I write my lyrics upon its legs.
|
|
This thing is like a nightmare,
|
It's hard to drag it anywhere.
|
I'm riding round in your town...
|
|
There's love than everything else in your house
|
You can't escape the truth, it's dangerous.
|
|
Now I have a fraction of,
|
the respect I used to have.
|
Forget everything you know,
|
and you can fuck what you're fighting for.
|
|
This thing is like a nightmare,
|
Our dreams can take us anywhere.
|
I'm riding round in your town...
|
|
There's love than everything else in your house
|
You can't escape the truth, it's dangerous.
|
I'm outside the back of your house, trying hard to work it out.
|
But you're always in the background, and looking out... you're looking out
|
|
This thing is like a nightmare,
|
It's hard to drag it anywhere.
|
I'm riding round in your town...
|
|
There's love than everything else in your house
|
You can't escape the truth, it's dangerous.
|
I'm outside the back of your house, trying hard to work it out.
|
But you're always in the background, and looking out... you're looking out
|
|
-----------------
|
A Tragic World Record
|
| Biffy Clyro |
