Heart Attack Pact

American Diary

Sleep in, call out,
We go to class but not to pass,
Wake up to make up lines
That etch their words to every seam,


You see the thing your missing is,
Im so strung out,
Im so god damn addicted,
That I panic to get these words out


Swing the mic around,
You'll feel me in the crowd.
Oh my god lets make a point to tear this place down.


I've stayed up half a year to compose
Every breathe and every line,
I'm just killing time to tell a story of
Sleeping rare nights, moonlit street fights,
Locked in my bedroom
With prescriptions to musicians that no doctor recommends.
I'll die before I try to live a life thats the slightest bit different


Swing the mic around,
You'll feel me in the crowd.
Oh my god lets make a point to tear this place down
You cant help, we cant help,
We cant help, but get caught up in this madhouse.


Composição: Colaboração e revisão: Aline OliveiraAndrea Campana

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