A Dbm
She don't hit me up anymore, no
Gbm Dbm
Things that were fun just ain't fun anymore, no
A Dbm
Six in the morning I know I should go home
Gbm Dbm
But I, uh-huh
A Dbm
High as fuck and the clock's screaming tick-tock
Gbm
Girls in the suburbs singing Smiths songs
A
I know that it's wrong
Dbm Gbm
I don't know what I'm doin, but
Dbm Bm A Bm
Maybe one day it'll all make sense, oh-oh
Bm D A Dbm
Maybe one day it'll all make sense, oh-oh
E A
Maybe one day it'll all make sense
Gbm Bm
But I just don't know when
Dbm Gbm A
And it feels like the end
Gbm
And all of my friends
Dbm
Said
Bm A Dbm
That I should get my mind off of the wrong things
Gbm E
I should probably tear off all my heart strings
Dbm A Dbm Gbm Dbm
You can't pull them no more, no
E Dbm A
Can I pass out on your floor
Dbm Gbm
Can I have a little more so I can
Dbm E A
Hear you babble on some more about him
Dbm Gbm Dbm
About him, yeah
E A Dbm
I got a little water bottle full of whiskey
Dbm
Oh, you lookin pretty like a model you should kiss me
A Dbm
You so cool with your drugs and your ripped jeans
Gbm Dbm A Dbm Gbm
I'm with you, but you ain't with me, no, no
E A
Maybe one day it'll all make sense
Gbm Bm
But I just don't know when
D Gbm Dbm
And it feels like the end
E Bm A Bm
And all of my friends, said
D Dbm
That I should get my mind off of the wrong things
Bm
I should probably tear off all my heart strings
D Dbm
You can't pull them no more
Final: Dbm