Three times alone this week
I was suppose to be a rock star
"I only beat you when I'm drunk
You're only pretty when you're crying."
We are suppose to be the ones to set the air afire
Three times alone this week
I was made into a liar
Whether (or not) I found the gold
I never told
Richer: I
Brilliant white
I
I wear shoes that move men from desert to riches
Give me what you've got, girl
And scratch it because it itches
Call me Chameleon
And set this air afire
Three times alone this week
I was supposed to be a liar
Maybe not
Why the stare?
Would I lie about that which I am scared?
What did I say to you?
Step into
A pot of gold
Rejoice in fire
That which soon burns cold
What did I say to you?
I can't deny
The throat, the love, sincerity
I can't deny it
"I've got to keep my P.M.A."