My brother always told me,
'That mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble one day,'
But by that time it was already too late.
My mouth did a lot of things.
Built boy's up in a pair of two,
Told pretty lies and
was never really good at hiding my disguise.
Let me pass on some beautiful things,
lashing out for the fear of what mean boy's bring.
Broke several strings,
hurt beautiful boy's with tongue rings.
If ever it broke your spirt,
it'd say sorry.
But what's the point of saying things
they'll never believe or worry
to hear?