Tekster: Grey Area. Fanbelt Algebra. Sour Grapes.

6 of us stand in a sunlit room,
oversized prepare for more,
expand the floor,
knock down a wall.

Some people say that its just growing pains,
but I watched you stab your closest friends,
how dumb I was to think that it couldn't happen to me.
But I'll remember.

Address my anger like a wrecking ball,
prepared to fall.
Injury is imminent, so take the focus away from me.
Can't help to think of just what could have been,
how stupid I was just naive and innocent,
my actions showed inexperience.

I say my only wrong is in who I chose to trust.
You say that money talks and bullshit always walks.
So I say that this will never happen to me again,
because I'll remember.

I realize that it's all sour grapes,
complaining now is years too late,
but I can't help to sit and wonder just what could have been.
When I'm on the subway thinking to myself I'm better off right now,
I know I know, how things have changed for the better.

I realize it's all sour grapes.
Complaining now is years too late,
but I can't help to sit and wonder just what could have been.
I realize that it's all sour grapes.
Complaining now is years too late.
That day I should have knocked him one across the chin.