كلمات 100 Strangers

You've got to get out son, You got your back against the wall And the end has just begun And this place, there's a hundred Strangers and I hardly know one face. And I sold my soul to the night I'm a waste of time yet I've got to try We're all worrying, about the same things The end cannot begin at the start. We're all worrying, about the same things The end cannot begin at the start Spit your words out son, they cling to your lips like they're trying to hold on And I like to tread the boards of avenues with open eyes But I'm fine, my head isn't there And I'm losing out but I'm trying not to care We're all worrying, about the same things The end cannot begin at the start. We're all worrying, about the same things The end cannot begin at the start