MARBLE HOMES, GRANITE BANKS

I found myself in the paper
I took my eyes from the portrait
A face I didn’t recognize

You took your finger from my trigger
And used your love as protection
And walked right through the storm

What a waste

My warpaint is my only weakness
My story will sell million copies
By the end of the day

What a waste

I found myself in the paper
I took my eyes from the portrait
A face I didn’t recognize