I'm A Dime A Dozen and So Are You

running away from ghost that follow

miles away but I found my killing pace

so run as far as you can and don't you ever look back

so take that knife in your hand

and aim it straight at you

wasting breath on what should stay dead

I know best friends don't exist when you're all that's left

I hope you run that red, I'm hoping for a wreck

and when these doors crash in your face

regret sinks in. It's too late

you made your grave now lay in it

locked and loaded aimed straight at you you can't outrun the truth

sirens ring in the air

blood spilled onto the floor

a knock on your front door

your not coming home

(I won't leave the light on, they called I don't want you home)