Hearts For Habits Songtext
von Justin Hill

Fuck

Match at war and lungs on strike
In need of clean air, water and light
Stems and leaves and limbs alike
There was hardly a breeze in there

It was a stale dry room and what was more
The music in there was such a bore
Not to mention the juke box whore
There was hardly a breeze in there


I don′t mean to hide a thing, my soul is on my sleeve
If they wanted the truth, well now they have it
I fell into a waking dream and I find it hard to leave
I've been breaking hearts with habits

I′d rather listen to the metronome then to talk about the weather on the telephone
Not to mention the long drive home, there was hardly a breeze in there
It was a stale dry car and what was more
The music on the radio was such a fucking bore
Not to mention that radio whore
There was hardly a breeze in there

I don't mean to hide a thing, my soul is on my sleeve
If they wanted the truth, well now they have it
I fell into a waking dream and I find it hard to leave
Well I've been breaking hearts with habits
I′ve been breaking hearts with habits