I don't have anymore pretty faces Kicking up dust, keeping smiles Filling in forms I compared you to my favourite piece of cake But I don't have one of those to put in my jewellery case I imagined holding ground It wasn't the first sound I imagined papercuts No more gain to write I don't want to be extreme To talk you senseless Being worried, theres no casual, if theres no flame I allowed you to move a stone, to be my simple But I don't have, a silent greed, to put it all on the front page I imagined holding ground It wasn't the first sound I imagined papercuts No more gain to write