Motives

I am not just another strung out face in a crowd.
I am a chipped and beaten brick in a wall that's collapsed.
You can try to make me smile but my mind has been snapped.
Does he pull your hair like this?
If you'd let me tell what my bankrupt mouth feeds my ATM mind, then maybe you'd be the only thing I never leave.
I've got the keys to fuckin' Mercedes and the number to your phone.
I'm looking up at you as you throw back your head.
Give it like the drugs in your veins to the pops from the pain around neck.
Here we are breaking each other.