Текст песни Cut Me, Mick (Micah Schnabel) с переводом

One two three

Two two three

I been spilling my guts all over stages

Through busted lips and onto the pages

And killin' my friends with the ink from my pen

And prayin' it don’t get no worse

'Cause now I’m all dressed up with no place to go

'Cause they all want something sad, sweet, and slow

But don’t look to me for your hip apathy

Well I still got something to say

I still got something to say

Cause the crowds are getting bigger, anxiety worse

I’ll drink up my blessings and spit out the curse

When the boots hit the boards we won’t be ignored

Until this van becomes my hearse

Now all of the noise kids are dressed to the nines

Snorting their paychecks in cute little lines

In a bodega bathroom, committing their crimes

It ain’t easy lookin' this good

It ain’t easy lookin' this good

Now shoot the cough medicine into my veins

The faces get blurry but it kills all the pain

And the voices inside my head stop screaming

Loud enough for me to get to sleep

So move to the city and start up a band

Get your heart broke wide open

With the blood from your hands

Write it all down and embrace the sound

Of failing miserably, yeah

So move to the city and start up a band

Get your heart broke wide open

With the blood from your hands

Write it all down and embrace the sound

Of failing miserably

Write it all down and embrace the sound

We are failing miserably

This is the sound of failing miserably

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