Count Me Out

You said «don't worry about a single thing»
Said «I'm not worried about anything»
Make a mess of myself as I mumble
The words fall out
Just so worried about everything
If this is all we’re gonna be
I have developed a taste for defeat
I got half a mind
(I got half a mind)
Tearing this thing from the floor its like nailed down
to tear it out
to make a sound
to feel alive
if only one last time
if this is all we’re gonna be
(if this is all we’re gonna be)
I have developed a taste for defeat
(if this is all we’re gonna be)
then count me out
(if this is all we’re gonna be)
then count me out
(If this is all we’re gonna be)
if this is all we’re gonna be
(if this is all we’re gonna be)
I have developed a taste for defeat. x4