Fried
What you got is what you make it
What you got
What you got is what you make it
What you got is what you make it
Totally fried, totally cooked
Totally fried and fucked up
Been fourteen days and there's been no let up
And there's no one here to pull my plug
Now I'm gonna stop when I'm on my back
I'm gonna stop when I collapse
Oh, inside feels like a maze
Outside, it's all a haze
Man, I'm a greedy mess
Must be those feeders
Said I'm gonna clean up
Man, gotta clean up
What you got is what you make it
What you got is what you make it
What we have never seems to be enough
You just gotta learn to fake it
So I jump on a plane and I crash a car
And I try to sleep with all the stars
And all the other fakers were spick and span
They came with their own insurance plans
Well, I'm gonna stop when I'm on my back
I'm gonna stop when I collapse
Been twenty-one days and there's been no let up
And there's no home I can call my own
Ah, greedy mess, must be the feeders
Said I'm gonna clean up
Man, gotta clean up
What you got is what you make it
What you got is what you make it
You can sit down, you can beat yourself up
But you know what you should be thinking?
What you got is what you make it
What you got is what you make it
And what we have is what we make it
You just gotta learn to fake it
(What you got is what you make it) Come on, come on, come on
(What you got is what you make it) Come on, come on, come on, come on
(What you got is what you make it)
You just gotta learn to fake it
What you got
What you got is what you make it
What you got is what you make it
Totally fried, totally cooked
Totally fried and fucked up
Been fourteen days and there's been no let up
And there's no one here to pull my plug
Now I'm gonna stop when I'm on my back
I'm gonna stop when I collapse
Oh, inside feels like a maze
Outside, it's all a haze
Man, I'm a greedy mess
Must be those feeders
Said I'm gonna clean up
Man, gotta clean up
What you got is what you make it
What you got is what you make it
What we have never seems to be enough
You just gotta learn to fake it
So I jump on a plane and I crash a car
And I try to sleep with all the stars
And all the other fakers were spick and span
They came with their own insurance plans
Well, I'm gonna stop when I'm on my back
I'm gonna stop when I collapse
Been twenty-one days and there's been no let up
And there's no home I can call my own
Ah, greedy mess, must be the feeders
Said I'm gonna clean up
Man, gotta clean up
What you got is what you make it
What you got is what you make it
You can sit down, you can beat yourself up
But you know what you should be thinking?
What you got is what you make it
What you got is what you make it
And what we have is what we make it
You just gotta learn to fake it
(What you got is what you make it) Come on, come on, come on
(What you got is what you make it) Come on, come on, come on, come on
(What you got is what you make it)
You just gotta learn to fake it
Credits
Writer(s): Vincent Davies, Elliot Scott Rawson, Oliver Henry Burslem
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.