Cult, The
Gone
So your anger didn't carry you too farWhat you expect anywayThere's no patience left in your shattered little selfYou haven't got a fucking thing to sayHigh on your own, goneMother fucker, fucking stonedRain on your back the wind in your faceYou're spinnin 'round going nowhereSweet dreams of her, she left you aloneYou wasted it this time my friendHigh on your own, goneMother fucker, fucking stonedMy friends and I used to mess aboutIn the park, we were only fourteen, yeahI later understood about my attitudeI never thought I'd get that gone
From Letras Mania