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)