knock me down another time it's easier to get up when it's become so routine throw me down then pull me up you're the salt that's on my cut and you're the cure to my disease i'm sick and tired of being thrown around i'm sick and tired of the sound of your voice in my ear telling me things i don't want to hear i throw in the towel so when i'm coming home promise you won't be there so when i'm coming home promise you won't be there i'd rather be alone your soles are wearing thin from walking all over me imprinted deep into my chest left a tab i couldn't keep in a place whose prices are much too steep so i'm running out this day could be better than the last i'm moving on to better days and better things i won't look back