Lletres: blink-182. Lemmings.

A freight train to the right, feeling that sting of pride

It's fucking with me, it's fucking with you

All's fair in love and war until you say it isn't but you're wrong



Words on the back of flyers, my clothes are in the dryer

It means nothing, nothing is changing

La familia is dead and gone, the children grew up and moved on



Is it too much to ask for the things to work out this time?

I'm only asking for what is mine

I wanted everything, I got it and now I'm gonna

Throw it away, I'll throw it away (yeah)



Prime select and a box of glazed, pulling fly-bys on days

When we were young and innocent

Elbow-drop Sundays when Mark Eaton got beat to shit



Laughing at the bands we hate, all the spots we used to skate

They're still there, but we've gone our own ways

I know it's for the best but sometimes I wonder

Will I ever have friends like you again?



Is it too much to ask for the things to work out this time?

I'm only asking for what is mine

I wanted everything, I got it and now I'm gonna

Throw it away, I'll throw it away (yeah)



Is it too much to ask for the things to work out this time?

I'm only asking for what is mine

I wanted everything, I got it and now I'm gonna

Throw it away, I'll throw it away (yeah)



You're gonna drown in the mess you make

Your self-inflicted hate

You turn your back on the friends you lose

When they don't follow all your rules



But people are what they wanna be

They're not lemmings to the sea

Maybe it's time you looked at yourself

And stop blaming life on someone else