THE FRONT BOTTOMS Trampled

Lyrics from Musicaward THE FRONT BOTTOMS Trampled Lyrics, singer by THE FRONT BOTTOMS

I never done it, only sold it
To a couple of my friends and now they’re telling me that they feel fine
And it’s a backwards way of thinking
But it’s all that I got so I will keep it in the back of my mind

And it’s a lonely conversation with a stranger I met
Asking me what I’m gonna do tonight
But I will never sleep again, so you can come on over
I bet you think we both could work out fine

And it’s a phone call, says you hate me
Your boyfriend wants to know where I’ve been
But it’s a waste of time, you see I’ve lost weight
My bones are practically sticking through my skin

And it’s a question of religion, a question I want answered
An answer that is in myself
But I am absent, and I am hollow
Most of the time I think I’m someone else

And I am bored, just like a summer cop
Thinking what I’m doing’s gonna make a difference
And I keep screaming and asking him to stop
But I doubt he will because he never listens

My bed is small but I cannot complain because it won’t make a difference
You could come over if that is what you decide
And we could both stay up
Try to watch the sun rise

And it’s a phone call, says you hate me
Your boyfriend wants to know where I’ve been
But it’s a waste of time, you see I’ve lost weight
My bones are practically sticking through my skin

And it’s a question of religion, a question I want answered
It’s an answer that is in myself
But I am absent, and I am hollow
Most of the time I think I’m someone else

But it’s a phone call (it’s a phone call), says you hate me (why do you hate me?)
Your boyfriend wants to know where I’ve been (why do you hate me?)
But it’s a waste of time
You see I’ve lost weight
Oh, well my bones are practically sticking
Practically sticking
Through my skin (through my skin)
Through my skin (through my skin)
Through my skin
Through my skin (why do you hate me?)
Why do you hate me?

Ah, but it’s a phone call, says you hate me
Your boyfriend wants to know where I’ve been
But it’s a waste of time, you see I’ve lost weight
My bones are practically sticking through my skin (they’re sticking through my skin)

And it’s a question of religion, a question I want answered
It’s an answer that is in myself (I got questions, I got questions)
But I am absent, and I am hollow
Most of the time I think I’m someone else

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