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• Artiste: Help Truman
• Titre: Seventh Street And Strings
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INCORRECT: avant la mauvaise ligne
CORRECT: avant la correspondant ligne correcte
Autrement, nous ne pouvons les corriger pas! Merci pour votre aide.
A new night in a foreign town only seems lonely, Even with a thousand people gathered 'round, And as we all try to fit in, Most fall flat, and no one wins a friend. A distant stare to fake deep thought Keeps me from looking too uneasy, But I end up getting caught When this kid walks up to me, And says, you need a savin', buddy? Buddy? I'm nobody's buddy while I'm here, So don't act casual, I'm faking for a reason. I'd rather be alone, And daydream by myself, I hate it here. Anxiety meets prejudice, And nervous looks and conversations Are all thrown into the mix And it's there we're told to meet, But we all stare at our feet instead. I'm only thinking of my home And how in just a few short weeks, I'll be here, Living all alone, With these kids that surround me, Freaks who shoplift with money. Don't tell me about attitude, If none of your interests were common, No one there to talk with, You would have one, too. I'm not adjusting well, I hate it here. Out of sight and out of mind, Or absence makes the heart grow fonder? I'm somewhere in the middle of the line. I've never been homesick, (But every new kid here) They're all sick of home, And I hate it here.