Tillary

A silly thing it eats at me keeps me up I admit
An ugly need you don't hide I can't help but to see
Gets you hard makes you wet thrilled to talk and to vent
Let me know tell me twice and again and again

The brutal truth of the thing
Is you need to control to feel free

Your own life it's a pit luck is late to each event
Job is lame so are friends simple math less than shit
Appoint yourself take an oath rally troops affix a lens
Letter sent lecture held you're center stage just for a bit

The brutal truth of the thing
Is you need to control to feel free
No Gods, no masters you sing
But you sure love playing police

Mr. Officer
What are my charges?
Mr. Officer
I want to speak in my defense
Mr. Officer
What are my charges?
Mr. Officer
I need the numbers on your badge
I don't trust you with evidence
Your moves and motives they don't match
I want to speak in my defense



Credits
Writer(s): Christopher David Villeneuve, Cory Andrew Galusha, Nicholas John Cogan, Patrick James Wynne, Patrick Russell Kindlon
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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