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| The Cult Miscellaneous Gone So your anger did't carry you too far What you expect anyway There's no patience left in your shattered little self You haven't got a fucking thing to say High on your own, Gone Mother fucker, fucking stoned Rain on your back the wind in your face You're spinnin 'round going nowhere Sweet dreams of her, she left you alone You wasted it this time my friend High on your own, Gone Mother fucker, fucking stoned My friends and I used to mess about in the park, we were only 14, yeah I later understood about my attitude I never thought I'd get that gone |
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