[Verse 1] I monitor your every move Mark the fancy words you choose As I tip-toe the picky part of town All hail the avant garde Lofty kids with pitch-black hearts Are on top of things, in charge of this parade Some sort of expo? twenty-twelve [Chorus] I inked W-A-L-L-E On the dotted line I sign up for a part of whatever plan You got your hands on And never mind the fine print As long as I'm on everyone's lips You can have the whole thing
I'll be turning heads tonight And this soul is for sale if the price is right [Verse 2] Spare me yet another draft on how you're simply different Second guessing everything inside You expect your every phrase to be measured by the Richter Scale And to tell you the truth I'm definitely shaking ? your collapse [Chorus] [Outro] Anyway. I've never put much trust in the spiritual side of me You can keep it all to yourself