Don't Preach

You say that I suck and I'm lousy
You say I can't write, not yet
You always told me how to be
Now I'm sick of it

Sorry doesn't make it okay
When I'm the one that paid your way
Don't preach

You're drilling a hole in my ceiling
Too bad it won't rain
But who's living without any feeling
So don't you complain

Sorry doesn't make it okay
When I'm the one that paid your way
Sorry doesn't make it okay
When I'm the one that paid your way
Don't preach

(Believe it, okay then)

I can't believe what you say
How you live, how you love, how you lie
You took my money away
Made me sleep on the floor that I bought
But I don't care anyway
'Cause I laugh when you cry
Do you think you would die if I said
Don't preach

Sorry doesn't make it okay
When I'm the one that paid your way
Sorry doesn't make it okay
When I'm the one that paid your way

The house, the bed, the cars and the front door (cars and the front door)
How's it feel now that it's paid for? (Now that's it's paid for)
Already paid for (already paid for)
Already paid for (already paid for)
Already paid for (already paid for)
Already paid for (already paid for)
Everybody's paid for
Everybody's paid for (everybody's paid for)
Everybody's paid for
Everybody's paid for



Credits
Writer(s): James Bell, Michael Thomas Corcoran, Christopher John Abraham
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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