Too fast too proud, no brakes no clue
I refuse to see, I'm losing you
Broken bodies, tired hearts
My damn pride is tearing this apart
Too blind to see, no one knows me
I'm lining up, crying 'anarchy'
Sweaty fingers, calloused hands
My hand in yours, it's contraband
I'm a fool, I'm a fool
I've made you a wanted man
I can't play love by the rules
My hand in yours, It's contraband
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
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