In With The Old lyrics

You seem to follow me down,
You seem to follow me down,

Girl you got a fuse at the end of your heart,
So once I light up, I don't think it will stop,
You got a reputation for what you're not,
And I don't really mind that, mind that.
Don't want to be your man, don't want to be your daddy
I ain't your boyfriend; I ain't your caddy.

Memories and old cd's of living easy,
Three o'clock bus stop; regards my elementary,
I recall my sandy feet inside my car,
Low tide, old airport had blessed me with my
Favorite scar.

Why does every simple thing seem to complicate me?
Running back and forth so I can be....

Back home, Back home, Back home, Back home

Bob and Pac with billie stuffed inside my luggage,

Look what I found in Kona Town,
While the sky gets weary and the sun goes down,
It's summer living, oh, it's the season
To get your body naked and then start screaming,
Around the clock 'cause we don't stop,
Ya 'gotta keep it moving like a porno plot.
All the drinks to fix ya, it's a perfect mixture,
You lean to the dise to get a clearer picture.

If you got a problem with your love affair,
If you got a problem with your love affair,
Cry to someone who cares but don't cry to me!

Hours are spent, then it history,
And my girl loves her insecurities.
I can't work a nine to five and,
You don't seem to realize what's on my resume;
I grab the microphone and sway this way,
But, all you want is to complain

Miss joker, joker laughing at me,
Ohhh, 'cause I know all of your schemes lately,
Like the way you move your hip,
Seductive licks for the money clip.
Do you own this? And I know this, that's when I noticed.

She looked me over and moved so easily,
But, in fact, fuck all that, I like the way you use me!
The evidence is missing with my "Steiny,"

Lost in pictures Baby I'm

Lost and found
Reminiscing bout my teens

It's a postcard scene from Kona town
Sitting in my hotel room

Oooh on a cold London afternoon
My glass is red

Staring out my window
Over the streets

There's a cool breeze I freeze
Sit back in my seat

The radio is painted blue
And it's crying the bed 2 big with out you
Now that I'm done, now that

It's been so long; it's hard to breathe
When the trust is gone,
And you face of steel just melts away in the weather.

You got a lot to weigh, so weigh it
You got a lot to say, just say it.
Aren't you tired of wasting fuel?
So, now I'll hand the fuse to you!

Burn it all, let's burn it all;
Let fire fall, let fire fall,
What's done is done, it's in the past, it's ashes.

Lost in pictures Baby I'm

Lost and found
Reminiscing bout my teens

It's a postcard scene from Kona town
Sitting in my hotel room

Oooh on a cold London afternoon
My glass is red

Staring out my window
Over the streets

There's a cool breeze I freeze
Sit back in my seat

The radio is painted blue
And it's crying the bed 2 big with out you
Now that I'm done, now that

I saw a street corner angel,
Platinum problems pressed against the wall.
She paid her dues, bought stiletto shoes,
And had real mean pimp names Paul.
Well, Paul, tied her up to the railroad tracks,
'Cause he didn't get the money on time,
I heard her screaming loud from the other side of town,
And the train was coming down the line.

Exclamation points jumped out her eyes,

He was never into leather and studs,
But, he liked them all the same.
He bought his records from a magazine
Called "Metal, Death, & Pain",
He grew up strong and he grew up right,
Except in his daddy's eyes,
Who said, "Now, son don't you waste your time
With all of them evil lies."

So there he was, the first punk rock cowboy,
Always wondering how it would be

This is the story
Of Rock n' Roll glory
Cause new metal bores me
So keep your head bangin'
If you're a Hesher
Where is your leather?
The louder the better
So keep your head bangin'

I'll eat your flesh
In my camaro I race for dinero
Crash and Burn
There's no survivors, when I'm the driver
My Mullet's Thick
The chicks love my meat whip, it's covered in lipstick
I rip it up

I got started this morning,
Barely up, filled my cup while I'm yawning.
Turn on my TV, Bad news her to greet me,
They got a new list of warnings.

It's a slow day I prefer,
And sitting under perfect weather,
But, I'm traveling through,
God knows I'll skip the preview,
And waiting is time wasted forever

And I've got to keep moving on, leaving this border town,

You rip my guts with every sharp word,
When you use that monster
Hiding underneath your tongue,
My words don't, they don't work on you,
No, they don't work like they used to.

'Cause it's been seven weeks, seven weeks,
Oh, oh, oh, seven weeks, since I called you,
When I try now; I just can't get through.
So far, the drinks have been so strong,
No writing on the post cards,