The game

You keep your heart in your back pocket and your wallet on your sleeve
'Cause we all know money talks and that our hearts take the back seat
No one wants to be the victim, no one wants to be the crime
You have taken all that's left and left the rest to do the time

You think that I depend on you, like fire needs gasoline
But my secrets would be safer in a tabloid magazine
You're just another failure, a faulty product of this mess
You'll never be a hero, I'm no damsel in distress

You think that you're the purpose, you're the reason why I breathe
But you're also just another man who's tearing at the seams
You're not a saint, you're just a sinner
You will never be the winner
Mr. Uncommunicative, what's your game?

I never thought you'd stoop that low, I never thought you'd lie
But now I'm not that blind, oh no, I've finally seen the light
Now I see I'm not the issue, but I'll never point the blame
Unless I point in the direction, the direction of your name

It doesn't hurt to try a but of selfless humbleness
Instead of wallowing in thoughts and all your inrecovered mess
You've still got years ahead of you to rectify yourself
Instead you focus on the negative, I'm worried for your health

You think that you're the purpose, you're the reason why I breathe
But you're also just another man who's tearing at the seams
You're not a saint, you're just a sinner
You will never be the winner
Mr. Uncommunicative, what's your game?
Oh oh oh oh oh

You think that you're the purpose, you're the reason why I breathe
But you're also just another man who's tearing at the seams
You're not a saint, you're just a sinner
You will never be the winner
Mr. Uncommunicative, what's your game?