Sub Urban, Two Feet

PATCHWERK

Oh, if I never get to show
Tell you all of the things I own
Fifteen hundred on alcohol
I'm feeling slow
Please let me go

Oh, I'm sewing the patches right onto my skin
I'm counting the dollars to buy me out
Oh, I'm losing myself to the competition
At what point did I start to think that I'd—

'Cause I've got no soul
Live in a hole I dug
And I'll fall apart
If I don't get it in