Sick of Second Best Songtext
von The Abstracts

Oh I′m sick of second best
So far the tree of destiny has dealt a cardiac arrest
I'm so sick of getting undressed into an empty room
Awaiting only pleasures of the fist

It goes a little something like this
Oh trust me you won′t be missed

But darling don't you ever cry for me
The mourning will simply carry me


So I start up a brand new day
I drop the rhetoric as I bathe in a beautiful cliché
I tried and tried it my own way
Self-will will be the death of me
But in a non off-handish way

It goes a little something like this
Oh trust me you won't be missed

But darling don′t you ever cry for me
The mourning will simply carry me

It goes a little something like this
Oh trust me you won′t be missed

But darling don't you ever cry for me
The mourning will simply carry me