Trophy Scars

Trophy Scars - Jerry'S The Name, Sociology'S The Game lyrics

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Everything you do Will make you separate from the lovers that you choose Now your dreams are too confusing I can't remember what I'm losing Cause everything you do Will make you more like All the drugs that you abuse And now its easy to forget, huh? Every reason to forget her, oh Forget the phone The smirking tigers ate their own Now you know who sleeps alone (And if I were you) I would keep the truth For them And you She called me on the phone And all I heard was the bang, bang, bang! The radio hit the floor And I could tell that she wanted more I'll let you use your mouth To show me what love's all about My tongue against your thighs tonight Match maker, match maker make me a match Conceived through a window, discovered in math Inhale all the colors and cough out a map These demons aren't stopping this brilliant blood bath Behind eyes Watch the sun set, watch the sun set It's saying things that you'll never forget Watch the sun set, watch the sun set It's saying things that you'll never forget I could have said All the things that make us sad But never again I think our mouths are just too fast Through that porcelain crack I can see she just wants nothing to fall But it's all gonna fall I swear to God, if it weren't for the fall… We just wouldn't fall Let's stand tall And fall Watch the sun set, watch the sun set I bet you guessed I'm the best to forget Well, I'm feeling fine Between your legs Just let me sleep here For a few more days Watch my tongue move, and give me credit I've cheated language, don't you dare forget it With no one out here, this town begins to feel so small Swans and opaque colors, these towns seem to me so dull Her face in scotch tape and covered in gauze I swear to God, if it weren't for the Fall these leaves would seem so fucking far I'm a little boy Just a little kid But I'm my own damn man With my own damn plans I'm glad you left me. Goddamn. Match maker, match maker spark up a match Covered in color dissected in math In flies an angel who's back from the past The deadness of winter distilled in a glass Behind eyes

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