You say you're happy
But you look so sad
Did you think I would keep this bitter tongue
Behind crooked teeth and angry gums?
Now you're upset
But you've gotta admit, it's catchy
Not that I think you care
But I don't feel right being here
I'm not gonna make it after all
I am the last of my kind
Just a yank in southern battlefields
Behind enemy lines
And alone to find out how I wound up here
Every mistake, a reason to run
But a good soldier marches on
Knowing the worst may be still yet to come
You don't want to hear it
When you could be wrong
What's a house? A bed? A pillow? A shed?
If you got no trust then you got no chance
You've got problems
And your bags are getting heavy
Not that I think you care
But I don't feel right being here
I'm not gonna make it after all
I am the last of my kind
Just a yank in southern battlefields
Behind enemy lines
And alone to find out how I wound up here
Every mistake, a reason to run
But a good soldier marches on
Knowing the worst may be still yet to come
It was right before our eyes
I am sorry but I had to write a song
About how you were wrong
I'm not even sure you were
But dear, that's how I cope
It's all I know
Now we're both casualties in this
And Every kiss and every word
They were bullets spraying hazardly from lips
I am the last of my kind
Just a yank in southern battlefields
Behind enemy lines
And alone to find out how I wound up here
Every mistake, a reason to run
But a good soldier marches on
Knowing the worst may be still yet to come
And the worst may be still yet to come
Writer(s): Anthony Raneri, Nick Ghanbarian, Jack O'shea, Christopher Guglielmo
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com