My throat feels strange when I don't see you
I get a mad desire to scream
My throat scratches the paint and tiles
Of your room, of the kitchen, of the living room
My throat scratches the paint and tiles
Of your room, of the kitchen, of the living room
I come early to disturb your sleep
Like a stray dog I start barking
I yank out your pillow, I dump you over
I make you mad and make her run
I know I'm not a saint, that sometimes I'm a bitch,
that sometimes I act innocent in order to fool you.
But I'm not a saint, I was born in the street
and I'm not going to change my ways just to please you
But I'm not a saint, I was born in the street
and I'm not going to change my ways just to please you
I ended up in this city by chance
I've always been this way; I grew up half homeless.
I learned how to fend for myself
And if I'm giving you a line it's in order to later...
I learned how to fend for myself
And if I'm giving you a line it's in order to later
dump you
I learned how to fend for myself
And if I'm giving you a line it's in order to later...
I learned how to fend for myself
And if I'm giving you a line it's in order to later
dump you
(x3)