What's Wrong With You - Sivert Høyem

Wasted on a parkbench in May

Stuck between a Texaco and the Eastside hotel

And the used-car salesman

He’s a-talkin' to you

Wavin' a cigarette around

Sayin' there’s not a lot more you can do

Alright

Thinkin', is this all that here is?

I’m kinda feelin', it should have been so much more than this

And whatever drove you

Is now turnin' you 'round

Man, if you ever make it back unharmed

There’s no knowin' what you’d find

I said at least for a minute, man, I’d rather not be talking to you

Because we’re going out of business and I’m lookin' for excuses to live

And mama’s only son is never comin' home again

Sleepin', or not sleepin' at all

Stayin' awake with your punk-rock-trash

And your push-up routine

Man, you always knew to have a bad, time didn’t you

And it didn’t really matter where you are

Or could you make it down the street

Could you make it that far?

Hey what’s wrong with you?

x3

Ah you’re not meetin any good people

Just a-wasting on a parkbench in May

Just get up in the mornin'

Fine-fine-fine

Just five more minutes

Getting too much sleep

Sleepin' on your feet

Always into trouble

Always in a bubble

Always taking smiles

Always telling lies

Just give me a minute

Hey what’s wrong with you?

x3