Concha de vainilla
If You Can’t Hang
this muthofucka’s name is Mitt
Fuck you and your new love for yourself.
It don’t mean shit.
I’ve got so much to give,
but I would kill just to feel less invisible.
And you’ve got so much to learn about gravity,
so live it up baby, don’t look down.
Live it up baby, don’t look down.
Last night I picked up the phone, late call said you were alone.
Crying to me about all things that we said, apologized for your ways.
Said you hadn’t slept in days, said that you need me, and it was just a phase.
So I came back opened my mind, decided to give you the time.
To make it up to me and not turn away, but then again to my surprise.
Fooled me once more with your disguise.
What a mess, what a mess. What a mess we have made.
Selling lust, off as love. But it’s just not the same.
What a mess, what a mess, what a mess we have made.
Let you make me the fool, won’t let it happen again.