Lletres: Oleander. February Son. Lost Cause.

Even if we say we do, it don't mean that we will
It don't mean that we're going to
Even if we say we'll try
It don't mean that we'll have the opportunity

All this time weighed out unrefined
Twisted and unkind, all mine
All this pain, suddenly arranged
A relationship that I've denied

My backs against the wall
I stumble and fall down, sometimes I scream
Oh, I'm scratchin' at my head, I'd rather be dead
Than not in your arms, in your arms, in your arms

Even if we say we do it don't mean that we will
It don't mean that we're going to
Even if we say we'll try
It don't mean that we'll have the opportunity

My backs against the wall
I stumble and fall down, sometimes I scream
Oh, I'm scratchin' at my head, I'd rather be dead
Than not in your arms, in your arms, in your arms

My backs against the wall
I stumble and fall down, sometimes I scream

My backs against the wall
I stumble and fall down, sometimes I scream
Oh, I'm scratchin' at my head, I'd rather be dead
Than not in your arms, in your arms, in your arms

My backs against the wall
I stumble and fall down, sometimes I scream