Слова:
Hoobastank They Sure Don T Make Basketball Shorts Like They Used To

and all of the day Doing all the things I just can't say And in my fantasy, your kiss is heavenly So I try to figure out any possible way To make my

Me and my friends kickin' in the household Tryin' to figure out thoughts start to unfold Nothing to do or see I can't understand Combine all our thoughts

But don't expect to find your plate full Because the karma patrol is blind to the fact Except that no one's perfect all the time Raining down, walking home When they

confused Because I thought that it would help me choose between What I want and what I should But I always end up playing the game I don't want that feeling

other ones Is it real? Is it true? All the trouble I go through Is it just a way, to show (trying so hard, but still I get nothing) That I don't have