The Game

You keep your heart in your back pocket
and your wallet on your sleeve
Because we all know money talks
and that our hearts take the back seat
No one wants to be the victim
no one wants to be the crime
You’ve taken all that’s left
and left the rest to do the time
You think that I depend on you like foreign gasoline
But my secrets would be safer in a tabloid magazine
You’re just another failure, faulty product of this mess
You’ll never be a hero, I’m the damsel in distress
You think that you’re the purpose
You’re the reason why I breathe
But you’re also just another man
who’s tearing at the seems
You’re not a saint, you’re just a sinner
You will never be the winner
Mr. Uncommunicative, what’s your game?
I never thought you’d stoop that low,
I never thought you’d lie
But now I’m not that blind
I know I’ve finally seen the light
Now I see I’m not the issue
but I’ll never point the blame
Unless I point in the direction
the direction of your name.
It doesn’t hurt to try a little self-less humbleness
Instead of wallowing in thoughts and all your unrecovered mess
You’ve still got years ahead of you to rectify yourself
Instead you focus on the negative, I’m worried for your health
You think that you’re the purpose
You’re the reason why I breathe
But you’re also just another man
who’s tearing at the seems
You’re not a saint, you’re just a sinner
You will never be the winner
Mr. Uncommunicative, what’s your game?
Ooh, oooh…
You think that you’re the purpose
You’re the reason why I breathe
But you’re also just another man
who’s tearing at the seems
You’re not a saint, you’re just a sinner
You will never be the winner
Mr. Uncommunicative, what’s your game?