Interpret:

Butch Walker

Album:

Left of Self-Centered

I was set up from the get-up, and I drove the wrong way home.
Into your eyes of blue, yeah I could barely take my mind off you.
So you set it, then you let it, slowly take the life from you.
Getting so high from the fumes, of a burned out so-called you.


And I feel so far away from close to you and maybe
We could try to find a way to walk right through,
the plastic wall between my heart and you.


You were faking, I'd mistaken, you for someone I once knew.
Into the ring I flew, like a wrestler falls on cue.
Can you show me? Please show me. why it all went down in flames.
Was it 'cause I made it through, and you were just too fucked up to?


And I feel so far away from close to you, and maybe
We could finally find a way to walk right through,
the plastic wall between my heart and you.


Head is stinging, phone is ringing
Words just burnin' right on my tongue
Please put up the magazine,
I'm burning up like gasoline,
I'm all alone on the phone,
So baby won't you please pick up?


(won't you please pick up?)


I was set up, from the get-up
won't you please pick up the phone?


I feel so far away from close to you, and baby
All I wanted was to see you walk right through
and I feel so far away from close to you and baby
we can finally find a way to walk right through,
the plastic wall between my heart and
between my heart and you.