if i had a house i d board it up shake it up now shake it up now if i had a house i d board it up shake it up now shake it up now i wrote a letter but i tore it up spit it out now spit it out now i wrote a letter but i tore it up spit it out now spit it out now don t you think about think about it don t you think about think about it don t you ever think about think about think about it i d rather carve it into my arm serenade the poor boys at the disco gonna rip the hands off of all the clocks don t you ever think about think about think about it i wash my clothing in the evening drip drying leather sleeving i was warmer when the nights were younger don t you ever think about think about think about it you had a chance but you fucked it up fuck it up now fuck it up now i had a chance but i fucked it up fuck it up now fuck it up now i wore a fire in the pouring rain didn t stop didn t drop didn t roll with it i broke a sweat and then i broke it again understand no man s got a hand in controlling it oh oh no oh no you don t you re so po mo you probably won t