Better Things

After shows, all the time
Meet the band, do a line
Hotel room, double bed
Empty sex and then regret

Kiss and tell, well tell a friend
So-and-so would like to spend
More time in my company
Thinks he could fall in love with me

And I'm sorry, and I hope you don't mind
It's just, it's getting late, and I'm feeling tired
And I've got better things to do tonight
Than cultivate your vacuous desires

Three days later, there's no texts
What the hell did you expect?
He's only in it for himself
For the money, for the wealth

A shallow kiss to fill a void
A broken heart, a lonely boy
You took advantage of his pain
Took his dignity for fame

And I'm sorry, and I hope you don't mind
It's just, it's getting late, and I'm feeling tired
And I've got better things to do tonight
Than cultivate your vacuous desires

And I'm sorry, and I hope you don't mind
It's just, it's getting late, and I'm feeling tired
And I've got better things to do tonight
Than cultivate your vacuous desires



Credits
Writer(s): Tracey Anne Thorn, Ben Watt, Andrew Lee Isaac Vowles, Robert Del Naja, James Brown, Grantley Marshall
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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