Tim de Vil - White Fang

I can't remember the last time I saw you
Fighting or fucking in your Corolla
But, I still resent you for moving to Utah
You blame my band and my balls
For our break up
But it wasn't love
We just got
Stuck

We tried to fix this with a playlist
And some lipstick
But, we're too old to fight in the kitchen
While our friends
Vied for the right time to ditch us

By now, what's left
And hasn't been burned
Is under the bed
That we never made
'Cause we couldn't be bothered to fix what'd
Just get messed up, again

There's a big fat fucking metaphor
In there, somewhere

Who makes a mixtape with
Taking Back Sunday and Kool & The Gang
Who needs two copies of Boondock Saints
Shoulda seen this coming
I guess it's best that we never got married
I guess it makes sense that a cookie cutter meet cute
Leads to a cliché Midwest half-baked ending

If given the choice between
A couple of rough months,
Or becoming my parents
I'll take the one that allows me
To sleep without dreaming of sleeping
With someone who dreams of me
But it's looking up
You'll find a guy
That won't lie
When he's asked
Where he's been
Who he's with
Who he is
So, go find him

Written by:
Justin Robbins

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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