Из альбома: Past Our Means

Acquantances
They don't stick around
I can only count my ture friends on one hand

I'm tired
I'm tired of holding on
I'm tired
I'm tired of holding on to nothing

My feelings are taken for granted
Hey man, I won't leave you
But I'll still stab you in the back

In times of trouble
I call my friends all over
To lift and help me to my feet
And keep me free from harm

In time of trouble

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