Text:
Jimmies Chicken Shack Bring Your Own Stereo

If I don't kid myself If I don't care about a thing Would I be light enough to fly? And if I just rid myself The weight of memories and doubts Would

Won't make the bed up straight I always stay out late I never take you out Ask what you're all about I always smell like smoke Every thing's just a joke

To say that everything I knew was just a lie A love, a hope, a dream Well, what was it to you You can hold it in when you live But it comes out when you

sometimes realize That we have nothing left to save Still I've never felt this high And through fortune lights your way It will never be pure Promises Promises Promises You and your

cling on to your flame At least I hold a place inside of you Give up or get back on my feet again To get up and get knocked off my feet again Connecting your

make her lazy She makes me strong She won't believe it Till she hears it in a song Another night that kills The music heals Bring your own stereo They

you, waiting for you All too often we doubt Something so true It leaves us naked where we stand Saw your breath make a cloud Raining an ocean of your