Cowboys Don't Look Back

One Dead Three Wounded

Compositor: One Dead Three Wounded

You got a piece of me.
I know it ain't ever coming back.
You got a piece of me; it shows that when I play with matches, I always get burned.
And when you scream these words, carved with defensiveness, the higher you build your walls, the harder they will fall.
I can taste the fear in your lips.
Can you taste mine?
Crown me, for I am a king of fools.
Purge me, for I have a mountain of fear to climb.
Sober me up.
Sober me up.