i drink till i'm drunk and i smoke till i'm senseless...

Outside I’m talking shit

Outside I walk with a funny hitch

But it’s only a fake limp

Cos I’m a pretend gimp

And inside it’s always the same

Doing battle with my real name

Panic pure, pulse taking

I’ve got five on it

And my promises are breaking

While I try to remember what TRUEBOY should have already known:

That deep inside, my cover’s always blown…

(keep yr head up, stacey)

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