The Game

You keep your heart in your back pocket and your wallet on your sleeve

'Cause we all know money talks and that our hearts take the back seat

No one wants to be the victim, no one wants to be the crime

You have taken all that's left and left the rest to do the time

You think that I depend on you, like fire needs gasoline

But my secrets would be safer in a tabloid magazine

You're just another failure, a faulty product of this mess

You'll never be a hero, I'm no damsel in distress

You think that you're the purpose, you're the reason why I breathe

But you're also just another man who's tearing at the seams

You're not a saint, you're just a sinner

You will never be the winner

Mr. Uncommunicative, what's your game?

I never thought you'd stoop that low, I never thought you'd lie

But now I'm not that blind, oh no, I've finally seen the light

Now I see I'm not the issue, but I'll never point the blame

Unless I point in the direction, the direction of your name

It doesn't hurt to try a but of selfless humbleness

Instead of wallowing in thoughts and all your inrecovered mess

You've still got years ahead of you to rectify yourself

Instead you focus on the negative, I'm worried for your health

You think that you're the purpose, you're the reason why I breathe

But you're also just another man who's tearing at the seams

You're not a saint, you're just a sinner

You will never be the winner

Mr. Uncommunicative, what's your game?

Oh oh oh oh oh

You think that you're the purpose, you're the reason why I breathe

But you're also just another man who's tearing at the seams

You're not a saint, you're just a sinner

You will never be the winner

Mr. Uncommunicative, what's your game?