Oh my god, I'm such a terrible mess
I'm turned on by the tabloids
You would never have guessed
But I'm sucker for their gossip, man
I take it too far, I bottle up my Hollywood
And watch 'em name their kids after cars
I'm finding me out, I'm having my doubts
I'm losing the best of me
We're all part of the same sick little games
And I need to get away, get away
I'm wasting my days, I throw them away
Losing it all on these sick little games
I fell in love, she was the friend of a sister
Of somebody famous at least for a day
Expensive habits and a taste for the town
Had me chasing down red carpets
And watching all my friends slip away
They're finding me out, I'm having my doubts
I'm losing the best of me
Dressed up as myself to live in the shadow
Of who I'm supposed to be
We're all part of the same sick little games
And I need to get away, get away
I'm wasting my days, I throw them away
Losing it all on these sick little games
If I play my cards right
I could make the big time
I could be a reason to stare
Caught up in the spotlight
Shaking from the stage fright
How did I end up here?
We're all part of the same sick little games
And I need to get away
We're all part of the same sick little games
And I need to get away, get away
I'm wasting my days, I throw them away
Losing it all on these sick little games
We're all part of the same sick little games
And I need to get away
Writer(s): Butch Walker, Alexander William Gaskarth, Robert Ryan Dawson, Jack Bassam Barakat, Zachary Steven Merrick
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com