Messy - Acoustic
You know I'm impatient
So why would you leave me waiting outside the station?
When it was like minus 4 degrees and I
I get what you're saying
I just really don't want to hear it right now
Can you shut up for like once in your life?
Listen to me
I took your nice words of advice
About how you think I'm gonna die
Lucky if I turned 33
Okay, so yeah, I smoke like a chimney
I'm not skinny
And I pull a Britney
Every other week
But cut me some slack
Who do you want me to be?
'Cause I'm too messy
And then I'm too fucking clean
You told me, "Get a job"
Then you ask where the hell I've been
And I'm too perfect
'Til I open my big mouth
I want to be me
Is that not allowed?
And I'm too clever
And then I'm too fucking dumb
You hate it when I cry
Unless it's that time of the month
And I'm too perfect
'Til I show you that I'm not
A thousand people I could be for you
And you hate the fucking lot
You hate the fucking lot
You hate the fucking lot
Hey, hey
It's taking you ages
You still don't get the hint
I'm not asking for pages
But one text or two would be nice
And please, don't pull those faces
When I've been out working my arse off all day
It's just one bottle of wine or two
But hey, you can't even talk
You smoke weed just to help you sleep
Then why you out getting stoned at four o'clock?
And then you come home to me
And don't say hello
'Cause I got high again
And forgot to fold my clothes
'Cause I'm too messy
And then I'm too fucking clean
You told me, "Get a job"
Then you ask where the hell I've been
And I'm too perfect
'Til I open my big mouth
I want to be me
Is that not allowed?
And I'm too clever
And then I'm too fucking dumb
You hate it when I cry
Unless it's that time of the month
And I'm too perfect
'Til I show you that I'm not
A thousand people I could be for you
And you hate the fucking lot
You hate the fucking lot
You hate the fucking lot
And I'm too messy
And then I'm too fucking clean
You told me, "Get a job"
Then you ask where the hell I've been
And I'm too perfect
'Til I open my big mouth
I want to be me
Is that not allowed?
And I'm too clever
And then I'm too fucking dumb
You hate it when I cry
Unless it's that time of the month
And I'm too perfect
'Til I show you that I'm not
A thousand people I could be for you
And you hate the fucking
You hate the fucking lot
You hate the fucking lot
You hate the fucking lot
You hate the fucking lot
So why would you leave me waiting outside the station?
When it was like minus 4 degrees and I
I get what you're saying
I just really don't want to hear it right now
Can you shut up for like once in your life?
Listen to me
I took your nice words of advice
About how you think I'm gonna die
Lucky if I turned 33
Okay, so yeah, I smoke like a chimney
I'm not skinny
And I pull a Britney
Every other week
But cut me some slack
Who do you want me to be?
'Cause I'm too messy
And then I'm too fucking clean
You told me, "Get a job"
Then you ask where the hell I've been
And I'm too perfect
'Til I open my big mouth
I want to be me
Is that not allowed?
And I'm too clever
And then I'm too fucking dumb
You hate it when I cry
Unless it's that time of the month
And I'm too perfect
'Til I show you that I'm not
A thousand people I could be for you
And you hate the fucking lot
You hate the fucking lot
You hate the fucking lot
Hey, hey
It's taking you ages
You still don't get the hint
I'm not asking for pages
But one text or two would be nice
And please, don't pull those faces
When I've been out working my arse off all day
It's just one bottle of wine or two
But hey, you can't even talk
You smoke weed just to help you sleep
Then why you out getting stoned at four o'clock?
And then you come home to me
And don't say hello
'Cause I got high again
And forgot to fold my clothes
'Cause I'm too messy
And then I'm too fucking clean
You told me, "Get a job"
Then you ask where the hell I've been
And I'm too perfect
'Til I open my big mouth
I want to be me
Is that not allowed?
And I'm too clever
And then I'm too fucking dumb
You hate it when I cry
Unless it's that time of the month
And I'm too perfect
'Til I show you that I'm not
A thousand people I could be for you
And you hate the fucking lot
You hate the fucking lot
You hate the fucking lot
And I'm too messy
And then I'm too fucking clean
You told me, "Get a job"
Then you ask where the hell I've been
And I'm too perfect
'Til I open my big mouth
I want to be me
Is that not allowed?
And I'm too clever
And then I'm too fucking dumb
You hate it when I cry
Unless it's that time of the month
And I'm too perfect
'Til I show you that I'm not
A thousand people I could be for you
And you hate the fucking
You hate the fucking lot
You hate the fucking lot
You hate the fucking lot
You hate the fucking lot
Credits
Writer(s): Lola Young, Conor Dickinson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
Other Album Tracks
© 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.