Текст: Lostprophets. The Fake Sound Of Progress. Handsome Life Of Swing.

Write to someone, let the subject burn
If it's slow for my reply then ignore the wait
But as long as you want everything
And as long as you won't ever do
Return, return, return to you

Point the blame, push the blame, who's to blame today?
Point your finger, lose your mind, all you do is pray
Look out, get down, fall down, your masquerade will do
But in time my friend we all will see right through

Inside won't be here to stay
King for a day, that's all I'll say

Such a party bum
You should know that right away
Let the subject burn
And wish you all a fucking time
It started burnin', it started burnin', it started burnin'
[Incomprehensible]

Point the blame, push the blame, who's to blame today?
Point your finger, loose your mind, all you do is play
Look out, get down, fall down, your masquerade will do
But in time my friend we all will see right through

Yes, in time, won't be here to stay
King for a day, that's all I'll say

But here, thought I got, got a home
Sit down, got a home
Got a home, got a home
Got a home and I know