Music Video
Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Gina Royale
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Gina Wille-Rajeckas
Composer
Rob Freeman
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Rob Freeman
Producer
Lyrics
I can't tell you why
I don't like people in the morning
Or phone calls at night
Guess I got too much on my mind
I was on a path to self destruction and I ran into you
You probably thought it was nothing
I collided with an ego the size of the moon
And fuck, it bruised
I don't think there was one time
I was on your mind
And you weren't fucked up on tequila with a splash of lime
And in the fallout
You were too proud
To own up to the shots that your poured out
Into my voicemail sipping from the holy grail
They'd say last call; you'd call me angel
One time, tell me one time
Thought your intentions were good
But what the hell was up with driving me under the influence?
And I let you get away with it too
And now i see the sign on the road said caution ahead
But I thought it was just a dead end
And now i'm stuck here tryna pretend
We're not going off the edge
I don't think there was one time
I was on your mind
And you weren't fucked up on tequila with a splash of lime
And in the fallout
You were too proud
To own up to the shots that your poured out
Into my voicemail sipping from the holy grail
They'd say last call; you'd call me angel
One time, tell me one time
Now it's just you and me
Drunk driving aimlessly back home
(No place to be no where to go)
And in the the morning we'll be
(You can change but never grow)
Strung out standing on the side of the road
(Into what you've never known; fire to ash rain to snow)
Always knew we would be
(Afraid to ask afraid to know; if you could change I think you won't)
Strung out stranded alone
(No place to be no where to go; fire to ash rain to snow)
I don't think there was one time
I was on your mind
And you weren't fucked up
On tequila with a splash of lime
And in the fallout
You were too proud
To own up to the shots that your poured out
Into my voicemail sipping from the holy grail
They'd say last call you'd call me angel
One time, just tell me
One time
I was on your mind
And you weren't fucked up on tequila with a splash of lime
And in the blackout
Lying face down
I bet your mother would be so proud
Hearing your voicemails, sipping from the holy grail
They said last call you called me angel
One time, tell me one time
Writer(s): Gina Wille-rajeckas, Rob Freeman
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