Songs I Write | III

White Boy Trash

Maybe I have an issue
I'm crazier for you, than with you
I don't know why, okay, I do
Always saying that I'm done now
But then I see them, my kingdom falls with my crown
All the bricks that I'd cemented
Icy walls all melted
I don't know how to calm down

Oh, maybe I'm ridden with infection
Oh, maybe it's a disease I've caught and
Oh, maybe it'll always be a question
How come?

How come my dreams are filled with boys in dark curly brown hair and always glasses, white and fair? It's weird, I know they're always bad to me but I guess I'm rash for white boy trash

Maybe I have a problem
I started out this way, it ain't gone yet
I don't know, okay, I do
Always saying that I'm done now
But then I see them, all my efforts go to waste, wow
All the cracks that I'd cemented
Sins that I'd repented
Two faced 'cause mirrors reflect a clown

Oh, maybe of my life it's just a section
Oh, maybe I'm desperate for affection
Oh, maybe it'll always be a question
How come?

How come my dreams are filled with boys in dark curly brown hair and always glasses, white and fair? It's weird, I know they're always bad to me but I guess I'm rash for white boy trash

How come my dreams are filled with boys in dark curly brown hair and always glasses, white and fair? It's weird, I know they're always bad to me but I guess I'm rash for white boys
How come my dreams are filled with boys in spring clothing in winter weather and always glasses, white? I won't share, It's weird, I know they're always bad to me but I guess I'm rash for white boy trash
White boy trash
White boy, real fast
Get so gassed
Over white boy trash