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• Artiste: This Time Next Year
• Titre: Calling In Dead
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I want to sleep for days When my heart's sick She's calling and calling She's pouring salt in my wounds You'll be alone someday That's a promise It's shameful to know Little girls grow up to be you Never mind your best intentions I've come to find these situations Never cease to rest, They always get the best of me You know that it's true Fair weather, go figure Calling it quits had its run So I'm calling in dead Fair weather, go figure Some things are better unsaid So I'm calling in dead I want to sleep for days When my heart's sick She's calling, she's calling She's pouring salt in my wounds Never mind your best intentions I've come to find these situations Never cease to rest They always get the best of me You know that it's true So pray to god it's all in your head That I never told a lie or never will again Why don't you hang yourself You're a blatant contradiction To your heart felt confessions