Thanks for the Invite Songtext
von PET NEEDS

Words are my weapons, but I′ve lost my voice
And I can't find a pen, so I′m feeling kinda vulnerable
I exist in reality, have bits in my orange juice
I promise you that I'll fix myself soon
I lie in bed and lie to friends that I am fine
I'd like to let you know, mate, that I loved tonight
(Thanks for the invite)

Words are my weapons, but I′ve lost my voice
And I can′t find a pen, so I'm feeling kinda vulnerable

Words are my weapons, ′cause I've got no choice
My temperament is fine, I′ve just gotta shout sometimes

I lost my voice in a flat in Norwich
'Cause Robert had labelled the condiment bottles again
I try to be the bigger person, but could never get that stacked
I try to love thy neighbour, but she′s violent to the cats

Words are my weapons, 'cause I've got no choice
My temperament is fine, I′ve just gotta shout sometimes


I should have worn my heart on my sleeve
But I put on this big coat to battle the weather
I shudder at thoughts of what could have been
Every syllable uttered′s another step closer to you
But it feels as useful as texting your 3310
That's lay dead in your drawer forever
For you, I′d do anything
I promise you, I'd even try to pretend to get better
I promise you, I′d even try to pretend to get better

I've been doing it wrong
I forgot to breathe
I swear these songs will be the death of me

Words are my weapons, but I′ve lost my voice
And I can't find a pen, so I'm feeling kinda vulnerable
(I′ve been doing it wrong)
(I forgot to breathe)
I exist in reality, have bits in my orange juice
I promise you that I′ll fix myself soon
(I swear, these songs will be the death of me)
I lie in bed and lie to friends that I am fine
I'd like to let you know, mate, that I loved tonight


Words are my weapons, but I′ve lost my voice
And I can't find a pen, so I′m feeling kinda vulnerable
(I swear, these songs will be the death of me)
I've been doing it wrong
I forgot to breathe
I swear, these songs will be the death of me
I′ve been doing it wrong
I forgot to breathe
I swear these songs will, be the death of me