With knapsacks and pre bit-rate. Through lonely streets that we would skate. We're armed with only your mix tapes. I know you said it yourself.
But that was way back in the day, before anyone got paid. You hung on every word I said. I know you said it yourself.
So won't you say it to my face. The lies you made yourself believe and everyday we slowly see. It's not me, It's not me.
You know we'd rock this stage for free because it's where we want to be. We're making music, it's straight lovely. I know you said it yourself.
But now every show's routine. The verse, chorus, it's obscene. We're moving t-shirts like disease. I know you said it yourself.
So won't you say it to my face. The lies you made yourself believe and everyday we slowly see. It's not me, It's not me!
The streetlights go on forever and ever and our friendship has been torn and severed. I never thought it could and I never thought it would.
So won't you say it to my face. The lies you made yourself believe and everyday we slowly see. It's not me, It's not me.
So stumble home and stagger through the closing doors of a wasted youth.
It's plain to see. It's not me.
But that was way back in the day, before anyone got paid. You hung on every word I said. I know you said it yourself.
So won't you say it to my face. The lies you made yourself believe and everyday we slowly see. It's not me, It's not me.
You know we'd rock this stage for free because it's where we want to be. We're making music, it's straight lovely. I know you said it yourself.
But now every show's routine. The verse, chorus, it's obscene. We're moving t-shirts like disease. I know you said it yourself.
So won't you say it to my face. The lies you made yourself believe and everyday we slowly see. It's not me, It's not me!
The streetlights go on forever and ever and our friendship has been torn and severed. I never thought it could and I never thought it would.
So won't you say it to my face. The lies you made yourself believe and everyday we slowly see. It's not me, It's not me.
So stumble home and stagger through the closing doors of a wasted youth.
It's plain to see. It's not me.