Foo Fighters - The Pretender
Track nr. 1
Echoes, Silence, Patience & Grace [2007]
Lyrics:
Keep you in the dark
You know they all pretend
Keep you in the dark
And so it all began
Send in your skeletons
Sing as their bones go marching in... again
The need you buried deep
The secrets that you keep are ever ready
Are you ready?
I'm finished making sense
Done pleading ignorance
That whole defense
Spinning infinity, boy
The wheel is spinning me
It's never-ending, never-ending
Same old story
What if I say I'm not like the others?
What if I say I'm not just another one of your plays?
You're the pretender
What if I say I will never surrender? (2x)
In time or so I'm told
I'm just another soul for sale... oh, well
The page is out of print
We are not permanent
We're temporary, temporary
Same old story
What if I say I'm not like the others?
What if I say I'm not just another one of your plays?
What if I say I will never surrender? (2x)
I'm the voice inside your head
You refuse to hear
I'm the face that you have to face
Mirrored in your stare
I'm what's left, I'm what's right
I'm the enemy
I'm the hand that will take you down
Bring you to your knees
So who are you?
Yeah, who are you?
Yeah, who are you?
Yeah, who are you?
Keep you in the dark
You know they all pretend
What if I say I'm not like the others?
What if I say I'm not just another one of your plays?
You're the pretender
What if I say I will never surrender? (2x)
What if I say I'm not like the others?
(Keep you in the dark)
What if I say I'm not just another one of your plays?
(You know they all... pretend)
You're the pretender
What if I say I will never surrender? (2x)
So who are you?
Yeah, who are you?
Yeah, who are you?
good friends with bad habits, what am I to do? they're literary romantics, they fuck like wilde, and indulge like hemingway. i've good friends with bad habits and a tendency towards negligence. just petty thieves and addicts, that don't hurt anyone but they'll burn anyway. well sometimes, like every time a train passes, i get jealous of the long nights, and blurred lights, the red eyes, the bar fights. where in the hell am i? and how did i get here? and which way to the nearest train? well sometimes, like every time she breathes, i embrace my routine. i've good friends with bad habits. what am i to do? they're literary romantics, they'll fuck like wilde, and die like hemingway.