Pick yourself up off the ground. You're sure as hell to good. To let them hold you down. . Waste of chances. Waste of time. (You gotta let me be me). .
Back in 95. A little boy from just outside of London. Took a fated trip across the ocean. And little did he know. That he would find. His voice in verse and Making wishes on his broken stereo.
I'm sick of second chances. Cigarettes turn to ashes. I'm standing under street signs. To know the places I've been my whole life. . I watch the hours pass us.