Fake Death

Pass me off
If you're not there, then, what's the point of going out?
Enough to give your school friends something to talk about
Growing up on River Street and telling me your dreams

Come home
Your eyes alone
A story told about how you can't help but feel old

You've got an honest face
It doesn't account for your mistakes
Your hands build beautiful things for your mind to destroy
Oh, to have no control

It hurts a lot
Still, I'm glad I could connect
I still look good
Her language tells me I've impressed
Muscle, muscle, baby's calling me a god
Gives me everything I've ever wanted, love protected