The people down the street are packing up As if they found a neighbor doing witchcraft There isn't anybody I can trust So I'm alone dancing to a click track
What's wrong with me? I count to three I screwed it up to the Judas Tree I bow my head, I turn my eyes I ran away, right by your side
I try to make it better, one candle in the rain But there's no way around it Now I get off on the pain I get off on the pain, I get off on the pain I get off on the pain, I get off on the pain Lord, have mercy on my soul
Now I wonder if a man can fly With all his sins suspended from his body Each of us was born to live and die (Why?) But I could never follow orthodoxy
What's wrong with me? I count to three I screwed it up to the Judas Tree I bow my head, I turn my eyes I ran away, right by your side
I try to make it better, one candle in the rain But there's no way around it Now I get off on the pain I get off on the pain, I get off on the pain I get off on the pain, I get off on the pain Lord, have mercy on my soul
I look into my glass and view my wasting skin And say, "Would God it came to pass My heart had shrunk as thin!" For then, I, undistrest My heart's grown cold to me Could lonely wait My endless rest with equanimity
What's wrong with me? I count to three I screwed it up to the Judas Tree I bow my head, I turn my eyes I ran away, right by your side
I try to make it better, one candle in the rain But there's no way around it Now I get off on the pain I get off on the pain, I get off on the pain I get off on the pain, it's in my DNA Lord, have mercy on my soul
Compositor: Rivers Cuomo (BMI)Editores: Eo Smith Music (BMI), Wixen Music Publishing Inc (BMI)ECAD verificado obra #37294446 em 10/Abr/2024 com dados da UBEM