Expectations

Baby, innocent
One day gonna be a decadent
Prom queen, miss America
In the backseat, in a pair of cuffs

Sixteen little runaways
Running from the five-o, and got away
From a small town, with no scene
Looking for a shot, on the big screen

Expectations, go to hell
Expectations, go to hell

Not so innocent
On the street hustling
Never-be Miss America
In the backseat of a Celica

Crashing with a deadbeat
Living large on a love seat
In a small town, no scene
Turns out it was nothing but a pipe dream

Expectations, go to hell
Expectations, go to hell

Rich-girl wannabe
Bought a quick pick for the lottery
Watching TV with her boyfriend
Fell asleep, left the ticket on the nightstand

He stayed awake, to see the ball drop
Turned it way down, she never woke up
Grabbed the keys to her car in the backlot
Threw a shot of Jack back, left with the jackpot

Expectations, go to hell
Prom queen, Miss America
In the backseat, in a pair of cuffs
Expectations, go to hell
Never-be Miss America
In the backseat in a pair of cuffs



Credits
Writer(s): Chris Wallin, Don Gilmore, Adam Gontier, Barry Stock, Brad Walst, Neil Sanderson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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