There’s a bed, a TV and a trail in this room
There’s pictures right in the wall with all the people
you knew.
I’d have brought you something if I knew just what to
chose.
But talking I know that something to distract from this
moon.
It’s not gonna get better, it’s not gonna get better.
It’s not gonna get better at all.
It’s not gonna get better, it’s not gonna get better,
It’s not gonna get better at all.
Who’s gonna tell you why you lose?
Who’s gonna tell you why you lose?
You can never know how much it hurts to see
That there are all these semantic moments before I
believe.
Before I believe.