Typical (II)
(ah-aaah-aaah-ah) Packed the car in the dead of night
Left the dust of the old state lines
Torn between what you wanted for me And the breathing room I
need
Every phone call feels like a trap
No way forward, no turning back Oh,
you’re so cynical!
So typical, letting the lies show,
oh-oh! Funny though, how you won’t let go (typical...)
Two worlds pulling me in half
Quiet kitchen, the broken path
I can't live to keep you pleased While I starve on my
hands and knees
Every phone call feels like a trap
No way forward, no turning back
Oh, you’re so cynical!
So typical, letting the lies show,
oh-oh!
Funny though, how you won’t let go (typical...)
How you won’t let go... (typical...) (ah-aaah-ah)