| Well I got Just enough to get me
|
| Through the evening,
|
| This is wondrous stuff it really kills the feeling
|
| I got Empty plastic bags with crumbled mixtures
|
| I Dug dirty trenches with my little finger
|
| I get stormy mondays when I need a weekend
|
| I write Mail for Money then I add my new friends
|
| I keep breaking contact through my indecision
|
| A need for silent coffees when I need affection
|
| Wrecking ball nights
|
| They keep wrecking my days oh
|
| And my heart is breaking for the plans we made
|
| And I don’t know if I’m alive
|
| And I don’t know if I’m dead
|
| That wrecking ball It swings just above my head
|
| I get early warnings That I keep ignoring
|
| I Feel my blood is bubbling
|
| And my heart is Racing
|
| But I just keep going
|
| Cause I need to do this
|
| There’s no room for weakness
|
| There’s no alternative
|
| Wrecking ball nights
|
| They keep wrecking my days you know
|
| And my heart is breaking for the plans we made
|
| And I don’t know if I’m alive
|
| And I don’t know if I’m dead
|
| That wrecking ball
|
| It swings just above my head
|
| Well I stand surrounded by my fellow jurors
|
| We’re all In the pocket of the prosecutor
|
| We got no compasion for the innocent ones
|
| The time is gone for justice bring the lambs to slaughter
|
| Wrecking ball nights.
|
| They keep wrecking my day
|
| And my heart is breaking, my heart is aching
|
| I don’t know if I’m alive
|
| And I don’t know if I’m dead
|
| That wrecking ball
|
| Oh but that wrecking ball
|
| Oh but that wrecking ball
|
| Keeps swinging just above my head, just above my head
|
| And I don’t know if I’m alive
|
| And I don’t know if I’m dead
|
| That wrecking ball
|
| It swings |