[Intro]
Head bob, as you should, as you should
[Verse]
Suburbia, born
Wake up every morning
Day dreamin' bout a foreign
He was born into some fortune, more American than Gordon
His views kinda different from my outlook that's why he's gorgeous
Your parents hate me though, think I like that sh**, yeah
I like the thrill of it, yeah
I'm so imperfect, it's wack
I'm so aware of the fact
That I'll never in this lifetime get the chance to be with you
A perfect soul
A perfect hand to hold
Imperfect lonely roads
Pa** the controller
Let the TV roam, yuh
While my hands is on ya
Football pads is on ya
Ya let me take 'em off ya
Just to... get closer
To you