The Game - Wayward Daughter

You keep your heart in your back pocket

and your wallet on your sleeve

Because we all know money talks

and that our hearts take the back seat

No one wants to be the victim

no one wants to be the crime

You’ve taken all that’s left

and left the rest to do the time

You think that I depend on you like foreign gasoline

But my secrets would be safer in a tabloid magazine

You’re just another failure, faulty product of this mess

You’ll never be a hero, I’m the damsel in distress

You think that you’re the purpose

You’re the reason why I breathe

But you’re also just another man

who’s tearing at the seems

You’re not a saint, you’re just a sinner

You will never be the winner

Mr. Uncommunicative, what’s your game?

I never thought you’d stoop that low,

I never thought you’d lie

But now I’m not that blind

I know I’ve finally seen the light

Now I see I’m not the issue

but I’ll never point the blame

Unless I point in the direction

the direction of your name.

It doesn’t hurt to try a little self-less humbleness

Instead of wallowing in thoughts and all your unrecovered mess

You’ve still got years ahead of you to rectify yourself

Instead you focus on the negative, I’m worried for your health

You think that you’re the purpose

You’re the reason why I breathe

But you’re also just another man

who’s tearing at the seems

You’re not a saint, you’re just a sinner

You will never be the winner

Mr. Uncommunicative, what’s your game?

Ooh, oooh…

You think that you’re the purpose

You’re the reason why I breathe

But you’re also just another man

who’s tearing at the seems

You’re not a saint, you’re just a sinner

You will never be the winner

Mr. Uncommunicative, what’s your game?