Victims Family
Amigos
It's just that little shred of doubt you choose, that something I left out
You use to get your way because you say "you didn't spell it out"
Or the simple lack o' proof that makes for a perfect lame excuse your
Nose grows and grows do you suppose I know you're two quarts low
On truth
Oh, the things you put me through, a friendship built on guilt. To
Entertain you out of pity, to just to shut you up
No there's nothing wrong, let's go have some fun. A smoke to break
The ice, maybe I'm just too fuckin' nice...
Oh, the things you put me through, to bring me down to your level
Just to make things tolerable, in hopes of something better
But I don't see the change, and you don't think it's needed. So one
More lie for the road, gee I hate to see you go