Irish کے بول

Spare me the drone of your motor mouth whirring Give them your silly little piece While I inch my way to some possible redemption You can't bear the smell of it caked on your feet So you trample kick make sure the word is out And you grumble and you stick me with your ego disease I've met my match You've put me in my place Well maybe this is the place I truly want to be I look temptation square in the mouth Look little girl I see all your charms And I am punched drunk and it's all going south but don't think I'll fall into your arms I'm a man who's learned how to get down on my knees and I know how to beg for the things that I need Oh the truth is disguised and your lies are revealed When word gets around that will be the end of me