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White Tar

de The Bronx

baby's got cancer looking for the answer she's got cancer someone romance her she was one of a kind now she's perfected living on all the lies they injected now
she's staring at the scars that needed correction it's
not a habit she claims she's got american eyes letting her body go she's dead rejection looking for direction gimme picture gimme reception the clean smell of sin she's nervous at the hips the car's outside and i'm ready to go infected living on all the lies she injected now i'm infected staring at the scars in need of correction it's not a habit i claim i got american eyes letting my body go i'm dead i don't want to wake up i spend a lifetime staring at the telephone cause all i want to do is call you up
we got cancer looking for the answer

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