Testo: Treble Charger. Maybe It's Me. Red.

Saw you looking for a light
Face painted cigarette white
You asked the cleanest boy you found
You couldn't see me turned around
His fingers stretched across your empty gaze
That I just can't escape

As the red fades from your wrinkled dress
A picture of the people you've impressed
Hangs on a wall around here
Vision starts to crawl when I'm near
And the evening waits
While you get caught up to your own mistakes
Made up different lines
I wouldn't wanna keep in my mind

I wondered why you'd come around
Remembering your little girl frown
Your answers kept the crowd at bay
With compliments unwilling to pay
I had some things I'd like to say to you
But they just can't be true