Stuck inside my cell, this southern California hell
Things here aren't
You broke down on a Tuesday night
Stuck inside the same
And if I knew more about fabric
I'd be better
the first chord's the favorite of everyone indeed
it rings of
Just another westside story
A California kid out to drink himself
Well you started off, you were flying in the air
Drunk
He writes books and she buys pants
They listen to the
Same ten songs on the radio and I still don't
I could write a hit song.
I could write a love
Streets of old Hanoi running straight through my mind
Back alleys
Before you say a word I should tell you that
I started off sad.
Im sad cuz I miss you.
Im sad
I never want to be strangers again, she says,
There are
I've been sitting here for a long time
About an hour
You once lived by the sword
Now the cocktails wash down
» More on Speechwriters LLC