Žodžiai dainai: Skin. Fleshwounds. Burnt Like You.

You?ll always be a born
Worn out loser
Still blaming all of us
For your bad choosing

No I can?t watch the same mistake
Waiting for the boys to turn out straight
No I can?t run the same dog race
And get burnt like you

You?re swollen in the gut
From all those last nights
Still swinging vodka punches
That don?t land right