I've pulled a few fast ones
This time I'll stick around
Sister, I've shot my mouth off
A disappointment repeatedly, I am well aware
That my observations lack insight
Much like my conversations
I break into the distance
I'll wear my shame on my sleeve
I'm shaking in resistance
Trying not to make a scene
Only lonely hearts know where lonely hands go
I've played a few good hands
This long line of bad blood hangs like a noose I wear with pride
The degredation of being meek
It's suffice to say that a lack of foresight is dibilitating
Excuse the mess, excuse the awkwardness
I know you're not impressed
Regardless of my attempts to straighten-out a little
My absence of hope is second only to my absence of will