I rose a statue over cheap regrets I put my head into my hands I rose a statue for the things I said Tongue twisting, head into my hands
I didn't know what a mirror was 'til I went to La Jacuzzis, an uzi, and a Land Rover ride That's what the money's for Bikinis, Bellinis, and paté
And in the country we're just burning up too The weakest link's just a drain on the food And if it's better being left on it's own Let's prod it like cattle
I didn't know about glory 'til firsthand in New York I saw the smut and the fury and the dregs of the earth But let me show you what a mirror does It's now one and the same A little bit of nothing, and a whole lot of fame
Spaced out for free and made friends in the dives Nothing's ever the same, nothing's ever quite right The image is for certain but the present always dies So I'm going out to make it something sacred
I rose a statue over cheap regrets I put my head into my hands I rose a statue for the things I said Tongue twisting, head into my hands
Cheap regrets Cheap regrets Cheap regrets My hands, my hands, my hands my my my my
Compositores: Rob Grote, Connor Jacobus, Braden Lawrence, Pat Cassidy