Testo Messy - Acoustic - Lola Young
Testo della canzone Messy - Acoustic (Lola Young), tratta dall'album Messy
You know I'm impatient
So why would you leave me waiting outside the station?
When it was like minus four degrees and I-
I get what you're saying
I just really don't want to hear it right now
Can you shut up for like once in your life?
Listen to me
I took your nice words of advice
About how you think I'm gonna die
Lucky if I turned 33
Okay, so yeah, I smoke like a chimney
I'm not skinny and I pull a Britney
Every other week, but cut me some slack
Who do you want me to be?
'Cause I'm too messy, and then I'm too fucking clean
You told me, get a job, then you ask where the hell I've been
And I'm too perfect, 'til I open my big mouth
I want to be me, is that not allowed?
And I'm too clever, and then I'm too fucking dumb
You hate it when I cry, unless it's that time of the month
And I'm too perfect, 'til I show you that I'm not
A thousand people I could be for you, and you hate the fucking lot
You hate the fucking lot
You hate the fucking lot, hey, hey
It's taking you ages, you still don't get the hint
I'm not asking for pages, but one text or two would be nice
And please, don't pull those faces, when I've been out working my arse off all day
It's just one bottle of wine or two, but hey, you can't even talk
You smoke weed just to help you sleep
Then why you out getting stoned at four o'clock?
And then you come home to me, and don't say hello
'Cause I got high again and forgot to fold my clothes
'Cause I'm too messy, and then I'm too fucking clean
You told me, get a job, then you ask where the hell I've been
And I'm too perfect, 'til I open my big mouth
I want to be me, is that not allowed?
And I'm too clever, and then I'm too fucking dumb
You hate it when I cry, unless it's that time of the month
And I'm too perfect, 'til I show you that I'm not
A thousand people I could be for you, and you hate the fucking lot
You hate the fucking lot
You hate the fucking lot
And I'm too messy, and then I'm too fucking clean
You told me, get a job, then you ask where the hell I've been
And I'm too perfect, 'til I open my big mouth
I want to be me, is that not allowed?
And I'm too clever, and then I'm too fucking dumb
You hate it when I cry, unless it's that time of the month
And I'm too perfect, 'til I show you that I'm not
A thousand people I could be for you, and you hate the fucking-
You hate the fucking lot
You hate the fucking lot
You hate the fucking lot
You hate the fucking lot
Credits
Writer(s): Carter Lang, Scott Zhang, Lola Young, Conor Luke Dickinson
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