We hurt ourselves for fun Force-feed our fear until our hearts go numb Addicted to a lonely kind of love What I wanna know
Is how we got this stressed out, paranoid Everything is going dark Nothing makes me sadder than my head
I'm running out of teardrops, let it hurt till it stops I can't keep my grip, I'm slipping away from me Oh, God, everything is so fucked, but I can't feel a thing The emptiness is heavier than you think
I'm tripping on the edge High as a kite, I'm never coming down And if you hear me, guess you know how it feels To be alone
So how'd we get this stressed out, paranoid? Everything is going dark Nothing makes me sadder than my head
I'm running out of teardrops, let it hurt till it stops I can't keep my grip, I'm slipping away from me Oh, God, everything is so fucked, but I can't feel a thing The emptiness is heavier than you think
Suicidal, violent tragic state of mind Lost my halo, now I'm my own anti-christ Suicidal, violent, tragic state of mind Lost my halo, now I'm my own anti-christ I'm running out of teardrops, let it hurt till it stops I can't keep my grip, I'm slipping away from me Oh, God, everything is so fucked, but I can't feel a thing The emptiness is heavier than you think
I'm running out of teardrops, let it hurt till it stops I can't keep my grip, I'm slipping away from me Oh, God, everything is so fucked, but I can't feel a thing The emptiness is heavier than you think
Teardrops Teardrops I'm running out of teardrops The emptiness is heavier than you think
Compositores: Jordan Keith Attwood Fish (Jordon Fish) (PRS), Oliver Scott Sykes (Oli Sykes) (PRS)Editor: BMG Rights Management (PRS)Publicado em 2020 (05/Out) e lançado em 1920 (10/Jan)ECAD verificado obra #29088849 e fonograma #24445376 em 20/Abr/2024 com dados da UBEM